Sunset in the Night
by Jenna Von Cannon
Summary: SEQUEL TO FACES OF EVIL. Falling further from grace, Lydia seeks salvation in the hands of her 'savior' once again. Joker/OC *Sexual Situations, Violence, Language, Adult Situations*
1. Chapter 1

**Okay. Sequel to 'Faces of Evil' is a go. This is what I am planning. **

**The first couple of chapters will be dedicated to Lydia. You, as the readers, are going to get an inside look in the head of Ms. Valmont. Joker ****will**** be in the story just not the first few chapters… maybe. Yes there is a new villain in town by the name of The Riddler. I don't want my story getting too perplexed to the point of me not knowing exactly what to do. That being said, Riddler and Two-Face won't be in a lot of chapters at first. Batman/Bruce will be in it, of course. **

**This story is going to be on the more so graphic side. I will most defiantly post disclaimers before you read them. Graphic as in her history, more sexual situations, death, probably suicide attempts, and other things I can think of.**

**That being said, let's get this story on the road. Shall we?**

The buzzing noise is heard along the hallway. Lydia silently stirs from her sleep. Her back is facing the door, one eye open as she watches a shadow on the wall shut the door behind it. Small footsteps echo in the silent room. A heat radiating from the newcomer is cascading along her back. Clenching her jaw, she feels a hand run along her covered thigh. It starts from her knee and works its way up to the cup of her cheeks. A firm squeeze is given to the tender flesh.

She bites the inside of her mouth, fearful to let out a scream. She clenches her body tighter against herself, trying to discourage the predator from touching her again. The hand comes back once more, this time running its fingertips along her spine and up to her neck.

The feel isn't skin but more so leather. She body almost relaxes until she feels the leathery skin grasp her neck. Another hand is present as it makes Lydia fall upon her back. A giggle escapes the predator's lips. Her eyes shooting up to meet the toothy grin of the Joker.

She begins to struggle against him. She lets out asphyxiated words of 'No', 'Stop', and 'Please'. Nothing seems to work against the dark clown. His laughter penetrates her eardrums, reverberating against the empty walls. Her hands struggle against his arms, trying somehow to weaken him. She grabs at his ever so tightening hands, trying somehow to make him loosen her hold.

His smile grows wider, his laughter becoming more insane. Tears wail in her eyes, stinging her cheeks as she blinks them away. Her hands go up to his face, attempting to gouge his eyes out. Only to see that his face is beginning to wither away. The smile is still there, as well as his laughter. Lydia tears at his face with bloody nails. The white face paint is beginning to fall upon her face and body.

With one final grab, a new face is revealed.

She pushes herself up from the cot of a bed she is on. Sweat drenches her face, hair, and shirt. The distraught woman's eyes search the room to find no trace of the Joker. Swinging her feet off of the bed and onto the cold floor, she buries her face in her hands.

"Fuck…even in here he is still around." She mutters to herself.

The Gotham sun beaks out from behind buildings, offering a certain brightness to Lydia's room. She pushes her fingers through her hair as she cocks her head to the side, staring out of the window. Her feet begin to bounce against the floor, her elbows resting against her thighs. Biting the inside of her lip, her nicotine craving is beginning to kick in.

Placing a fingernail in her mouth, she sucks under the nail to try and taste something close to nicotine. One by one, each finger digs their way into her mouth. She quickly stands and walks towards the window. A fingernail still in her mouth, she places a hand against one of the bars. Lydia's stare is intently focused on what took place about a month ago.

Her thoughts are interrupted as the buzzing noise is sounded. The kind face of Jeremiah Arkham shines in.

"Ah you're already up. I trust you slept well?" He asks, raising his eyebrows in a friendly gesture.

"Too well." She mutters, her nails still captors in her lips.

"Well, it is 9 AM. Ready for our first session?" He asks, placing his clipboard under his arm.

Lydia eyes him cautiously. She wonders why he is being so kind to a murderer. She is the reason why this new Arkham Asylum is here. She wraps an arm around her waist, her other hand is **still** in her mouth. She walks slowly and lightly towards the man and out the door. Two security guards are standing there, machine guns in tow.

--

The room patient and doctor are in is white. Well mostly. The walls are white, the couch in which the patient rests upon is black. There is a table with two seats, painted in the same onyx color. A fireplace is to the right of the table. A large desk is further back, near the window.

Dr. Arkham allows Lydia to choose how she will be 'interrogated' for the hour session. Instead of the comfy looking couch, she goes with the chair. She pulls it out, allowing the legs to scrape the floor making the god awful noise. She smirks as he winces. Plopping down on the chair, her fingers find their way back into her mouth.

He begins to take a look at the page with her information scribbled upon it. "Fingernails to long Ms. Valmont?" He glances up from behind his glasses.

She manages to mutter a 'no' and goes back to trying to salvage the taste of nicotine. "Then what are you doing?" He asks, setting the notebook on the table.

"Nicotine. Gotta craving Doc." She says, her eyes looking past him and to the window.

He smirks slightly and rummages through his pockets, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and tossing them on the table. She glances down at the pack and back to him, her eyebrows raised.

"They aren't going to bite you nor explode Ms. Valmont. Consider this a peace offering. You talk to me and you'll get your kick." He says.

_Reasoning. Reasoning with a murderer. I like him already_. She quickly takes the pack and beings banging it against her palms. She tears the wrapping off unmercifully as she takes a cigarette out and the man before her lights it.

She takes the cigarette away from her mouth and slowly blows the smoke from her lips. She sits back comfortably, leaning her head back against the chair.

"So I'll go over some basic stuff. That alright with you?" He asks her, opening the notebook before him.

"Mmmhm." She replies, taking another hit, holding the smoke in her mouth until she blows it from her nose.

"Alright. Interrupt me if there is something wrong. Your full name is Lydia Faith Valmont. You are twenty one years old. Your date of birth is April 26, 1987. You were born in Atlanta, Georgia to a Cadence and Andrew Valmont. Both parents are deceased, only close relative is a Katherine Valmont; a younger sister. You were a student at Gotham University." He sets his notebook down. "Anything I missed?"

She sits up, running her palm over to mouth as if to wipe something from her lips, and shakes her head. Dr. Arkham places an ashtray on the table in which Lydia flicks her ashes into. She looks at the doctor in front of her.

"Ms. Valmont-" He begins but is cut off.

"Please. That would be my mother. Call me Lydia." She reasons.

"Very well. I'm going to start with the question so many others have." She sucks on the cigarette, waiting. "What attracted you to the Joker?"

He picks his pen up from it dormant position. She exhales the smoke, her eyes narrowing.

"What makes **you** think **I** was the one to was attracted to him? How do you know **he** wasn't attracted to **me**?" She asks darkly, sucking more of the cigarette.

"What caused the Joker to become fascinated with you?" He asks.

"Better question." She exhales the smoke and puts the cigarette out in the ashtray. "I remember him saying that I was corruptible. I had all the right tools but no one to show me how to use them." She brings her hands together on the table, giving him a nice stare.

"So…" He begins to write notes on blank paper. "He became hell-bent on making you evil. He did everything he could to drive you to the very brink of your own insanity?" He asks, glancing up at her through his glasses.

"You could say that." She pulls another cigarette out and it becomes lit, once again.

"Did you two ever have sexual intercourse?" A serious tone in his voice.

Lydia raises an eyebrow and blows smoke out. "Ah Doc, this is only our first date… wouldn't want to give away too much now would I?" A smile comes upon her face.

"Fine. I'll save Joker conversation for our later 'dates'. What was your childhood like?" He asks, noticing a slight twitch of her left eye.

"It was fine. It was normal and dandy." She says, lying through her teeth.

"Okay. If you want to lie I can take the cigarettes from you. You're a bad liar." He says, his hand coming towards the pack.

She quickly slaps his hand away. "So I've been told." She moves her arm back to her side of the table, making sure to drag the pack closer to her.

"So, no lies. You're here to get better. You need to tell me everything in order for your healing to begin."

Lydia stares at him for a moment. Her jaw clenches. Smoke dances around her face. Lydia has done the best she can at blocking anything from her childhood out of her mind. Her mother pasted away and her father turned into a drunk. She did the best she could to protect her little sister by laying her life in the hands of her drunken father.

"_Lydia, I'm scared." A small girl cries out to her older sister. Katherine bursts through her door and runs to Lydia's bed. She embraces her small sister in a hug and promises nothing will ever happen to her._

_Her father hasn't dealt with her mother's death very well. Ever since the night she died, Andrew Valmont would be at bars until all hours of the morning. He would stumble in drunk and quickly go to bed. He'd never emerge until about three in the afternoon. Once he was awake, the bottle became his friend._

_It didn't get bad until he began drinking at home. There he was able to torment his daughters and not worry about police escorting him to the station. _

"_Lydia! Katherine! Get your sorry asses in here." He would call out to them. _

_As if they were being chased by Death, the two young girls would quickly come in the room; fearful of their father._

She snaps from her minor flashback and looks up at Dr. Arkham.

"Thinking?" He asks.

"Something like that…" She mutters, taking another hit from her cigarette.

"Are you going to tell me anything about your childhood?" He asks, setting his hands on the table.

"In due time Doc. Can't we talk about something a little more interesting? Like, what have you diagnosed me with so far?" She asks, bringing herself forward.

"Schizophrenia Disorder. Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. Anorexia Nervosa. Manic Depressant." He states without looking down.

Her mouth parts open, her tongue flicking the inside of her cheek. "Huhhh." She smiles rather delightfully. "I'm impressed. Although you are wrong about me having schizophrenia. I don't hear voices." She says, waving her hands in the air like a mother would do to 'spook' a child.

"When I heard someone mention **that** disorder, I was muttering how I am going to **kill** the Joker. So you can strike that off the list Freud." She giggles, sucking the last amount of nicotine from the cigarette and killing it in the ashtray.

"Uh huh. The first step in recovery is to admit your disorders, not try and give a logical explanation." He says, tapping his pen against his paper.

Lydia rolls her eyes. "I didn't hear you mention anything about '_insanity_' on that nice little list of yours." She crosses her arms across her chest.

"Insanity is a legal term. As far as it being a psychological term… one who breaks the law without realizing it. You aren't insane. My guess, Joker isn't either."

"So you're saying a person with a mental handicap is insane?" Smirking.

"Not necessarily. You see Lydia, you know killing people is wrong. Joker knows it as well. It's against the law to take a life. Stealing is wrong."

"So you are saying that when people steal, cheat, or murder they are insane?" Her smirk widens.

"No… Joker is such a genius in himself. You are ahead of the curve." He catches an eyebrow raising from the woman in front of him.

"You see… Joker has what some call 'super-sanity'. H-"

"Okay, you see I don't care anything about discuss the Clown Prince of Gotham. Brilliant yada yada yada, insane. All of that mumbo jumbo bullshit about him. He is a murderer, insane, and madding brilliant. I get it. I know more about him than your bullshit theories."

At this point, Lydia is livid. She is standing and is pointing her finger at him. "You don't know **anything** about him!" She screams in his face.

The door busts open and the two guards come in, a syringe in hand. She kicks the chair towards the one with the needle. He begins to fall but she grabs his hand and takes the syringe from his hand. In a matter of seconds, Lydia manages to get the other guard in her grasp.

"Get me out of here." She states calmly, the needle about to penetrate the man's neck.

"Lydia, that is full of something that will sedate you. It's not going to harm him if you inject him with the fluid inside." Dr. Arkham states, standing placing a hand out to try and calm her.

"Lets find out!" She calls out and pushes the needle into his neck. She pushes the top down causing the liquid to fill into his body.

Her eyes dart back and forth between the guard in her hands and the doctor. She feels the man begin to weaken in her hold until she lets him fall to the ground, completely knocked out.

"Well fuck…" She mutters.

She turns and runs out of the room. She hit's the elevator button but there is no use; it will take far too long for it to reach the floor before someone apprehends her. She takes off towards the stairs, flinging the door open as her feet pound themselves against the stairs. The final door to the asylum is in front of her. She flings the door open but is met by guards.

"Shit…" She mutters.

Surveying the scene; four guards armed to the max. "Shit, fuck, fuck, shit!" She screams, punching the wall.

"Get her. Escort her back to her room. **Now.**" Dr. Arkham's voice calls out from the opening elevator.

"I suppose there is no way we can talk this over, huh?" She asks, trying to reason. "Guess not." She mutters.

One guard comes forth but Lydia sends him back. A swift punch to the nose caused the man to drop his weapon. Being the opportunist she is, she quickly grabs the gun and aims it.

"Uh oh! Female with a gun!" She scream out. She lets loose bullets that spray into the guards bodies. Bullets cease fire. "See why she likes this thing!"

Bullets begin to penetrate into the bodies. She feels the tearing of flesh as a bullet enters her lower abdomen. She stops shooting once all of her targets are on the floor. She glances over at the stunned Jeremiah Arkham.

"Thanks for the talk! But I gotta run. Very busy female, you know. Places to go, Clowns to kill. Later Doc." She salutes with a bloody hand.

She turns and runs quickly through the door and jumps from the tiny island. Her body is submerged in water. She winces slightly as the water stings her new wound. Although she is tired, Lydia pushes on in the thrashing waters. It takes a good thirty minutes to get to shore. Another hour to get back to her mansion. She had to evade police and the SWAT team.

They only knew of her previous location, the apartment, not her new location. Stumbling into the house, the loss of blood beginning to make her mind weak.

"Robert? Robert! Crisis on my hands!" She yells out.

Footsteps begin to run down the stairs. Lydia passes out before the owner could greet her.

**Dun, dun, dun. Chapter One to the Sequel. I am sticking with what I said way up there in the beginning. So yes… Review or whatever you like. I am open.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Okay I lied. Joker will be in at least the first two chapters. I say two because I've already begun writing the third chapter. After that, I am pretty sure I will have others come in, though you all will still get inside the mind of Lydia, eventually Joker as well.**

**Thanks for the reviews so far! Thanks to the people already placing this story on their alerts and favorites, you all rock.**

**Okay, there is a little sexuality in this chapter. It's nothing too bad but chapter three**** is going to be extremely graphic with violence and a lot of sexual content. Just a fair warning.**

**Disclaimer (Since I haven't done this in a while): I do not own the characters already owned by DC comics. I would be a happy girl if I did, but Lydia and the plot is mine. I kill you if you steal. :D**

**Now, on with the chapter.**

Purple pants hanging over a pair of haggard shoes lay in front of the unconscious escapee. An eyebrow cocks upwardly as he nudges her with his shoe. A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. Seeing her clothing is still damp and hugging her form makes him glee with mischief. Bending down, he grabs his little doll in his arms and takes her to 'his' room, whistling a jolly tune.

Tossing her on the bed, he surveys the body he last saw- ironically- soaking wet but in black. He notices her white Arkham shirt is stained with a red substance. He places a hand on the shirt and lifts it to glance at the small bullet wound. _Nothing too serious_. He sets the wet shirt back down on her flesh, his eyes creeping up to her face.

A countless number of times, he would always watch her as she slept. The way her eyes flutter softly against her lids; the way her lips always would be parted to allow for soft breathing. Her face is almost angelical, despite how sunken in her cheeks are. His eyes travel from her face to another point of interest. Her breasts.

His smirk grows into a smile. Pulling the gloves away from his rough hands, he tosses the purple leather away from him with no other thought. Lowering his hands closer to her breasts, his eyes twinkle like a child on Christmas morning. His hands grasp her chest for a quick moment and draws them back. A giggle escapes his mouth as he watches Lydia's fun bags jiggle. He coos as he sees her nipples begin to harden underneath the bothersome shirt.

He lifts her up slightly and pulls the pesky shirt from her frail frame. Noticing how her ribcages stick out didn't stop him from his eyes resting upon the little erect nipples. His fingers lightly graze the flesh. It been a while since he last touched anything on her body. Although the two have been intimate twice, he'll never forget the way her body curves nor feel.

His attention is back at her wound. Sighing, he walks to the bathroom and grabs a warm cloth, bandages and a pair of tweezers. Lydia never moves from the position she is in. _'It's amazing how much blood can be spilt from a tiny bullet hole.'_

He cleans the blood away from her petite body, discovering her bleeding has stopped. Picking up the tweezers, he stops and stares down at her.

_Why am I doing this? I don't care if she lives or die. There are bigger fish to be frying than taking care of a little guppy. Her purpose is done. She gets paid to kill me and here I am servicing her body like a car. Oh Faithy. Poor, innocent, defenseless Faithy. You are a fly caught in my web. _

He digs the tweezers into the wound, easily finding the tiny piece of metal. Laughter erupts inside of his brain. _She lost so much blood from this tinnnny bullet. _He throws the bullet carelessly to the side. His favorite type of liquid begins to slide out of the hole again. He sets the tweezers down and gives her another look over. She is unconscious and can't really do anything to stop him from 'taking in the scenery'.

His eyes travel down to the elastic around her waist. He cocks an eyebrow, his lips remain straight. Placing a finger on her midsection, he allows it to travel down passing her navel and to the piece of fabric hiding what he has grown to think about on more than one occasion. His fingers begin to dance along her waist in an exciting manner.

A finger slips lightly under the waistband of her Arkham pants. He pulls the waistband up and down for a moment, making his eyes wait to see the beautiful flesh. His finger crooks and begins pulling the waistband down. A flash of excitement enters his eyes, his tongue lashes out upon his smiling lips. He begins to see the delicate skin, his mouth begins to water from anticipation. Further and further down her pants go until a hand lashes out upon his wrist.

"Damn… you _really_ know how to ruin my fun." He glances down to his wrist.

"What the **fuck** are you doing in my house?" She asks with as much anger in her voice as she can muster.

He begins to pry her fingers off of his wrist as if trying to fling off trash. "It's my house now baby. You were hauled off to the looney bin so I took it upon myself to house sit," He stands pulling on his shirt, "Needless to say, I've grown fond of your… little place. So I hereby seize your territory and claim it as my own." He fixes his collar with a snap.

"You're welcome to stay but you sleep in my bed, and my bed alone." He gives her a smile and pats her head like an obedient animal.

If Lydia isn't so exhausted she would pounce on his 'happy' ass and 'seize' the territory back. She watches him begin to walk to the door but stops in midstep. He turns slowly with a finger pointed in the air.

"Now I'll be back soon. There is food in the fridge but I doubt you'll eat anything. Stay in bed and get your uh, beauty sleep. Also don't open the door for strangers or go towards creepy vans, you never know who might be lurking inside." He finishes with a smile, his hands behind his back.

"Go fuck yourself."

"Hmm, why not have that dirty mouth of yours do it for me?" He flashes a grin and disappears.

She pouts for a moment and crosses her arms. "I do not have a dirty mouth."

Staring at the door, Lydia feels her eyes begin to flutter shut. Sleep is promising but she feels her wound is uncovered. She pulls the blanket back and slides her feet to the cold floor. Placing a hand on her wound, she finally realizes Joker took her top off. She mutters obscenities as she pushes herself from the bed. Her head starts to spin slightly as her first steps are made. She pulls the back off of the large, square bandage and quickly places it on the wound.

"Figured you would be lurking around here. Thought you'd come quicker." She calls out, sliding her knees onto the bed and making herself comfortable.

The man dressed in black steps from the darken hallway and into the bedroom. "You know this is almost considered stalking, my dear friend." She looks over her bare shoulder and Batman.

"You're not supposed to be here Lydia." His normal voice calls to her, instead of the raspy batman voice.

"Ah but I am." She says, turning her body allowing for Bruce to have a look at her chest until she sinks down under the covers.

Bruce stares in shock for a few moments but shakes her image from his mind. "You don't belong in in society. You're a danger to others." He is standing at the foot of her bed.

"Oh Bruce. You can't honestly say that. I am a normal girl. I've been under the influence of that nasty Joker." She says sounding like an innocent child.

"You can't toss blame around like that. You've changed. You have no problem killing others just to save your life. You're scum Lydia." His reply is met with laughter.

"Why is it Jeremiah Arkham thought that after I go through therapy for long enough I could be released back into human society?" She folds her arms on the blanket.

"Dr. Arkham has high hopes in lost cases. He also believes that after he gets Joker in his hands that he'll be rehabilitated." A particular hate coming into his voice.

"Lost cases? I'm not a lost case. I can put down the gun now if I'd like to. I could return to my normal life if I wanted. Now, I'm rather tired what with escaping from Arkham and all so please, get out of my house." She turns over and rests her head against the pillow.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't turn you back in."

She turns around and glances back at him. "Because then Gotham would be boring. Someone other than Joker needs to keep you on your toes. Plus, I believe you have a little crush on me." She smiles into the pillow. "Am I right?" She asks turning to see his face.

Bruce has disappeared. Something she said is correct, it hit a nerve inside of him. Lydia nuzzles her face into the pillow, her thoughts drifting to the fun she could have with Mr. Wayne and how jealous her little Joker would be. Scheming she feels sleep begin to rapture her body.

**This is a little short. But the next chapter, which is going to be graphic, is going to be much longer… I think. Hope you enjoyed.**


	3. Chapter 3

**Okay. So this is the ****graphic**** chapter. If you don't want to read it then you won't have to. Chapter four and so on with display the results that happen in this chapter. **

**Thanks for the reviews, favs, and the alerts! Without you all I would be writing for no reason.**

**Also, I am wondering if you all want me to recommend other stories? Reason I ask is because my chapters won't come out as quickly as the first story simply because I am going to make the chapters longer and whatnot. It's just an idea.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Joker, I would chain him in my closet but I don't so my closet is empty.**

Lydia awakes to a crushing smack across her cheek. Her cheeks are sore, no doubt he has been slapping them for quite some time. "Good, you're awake!" He says, delivering another hard smack to her cheek.

She tries to move but finds her hands are above her head in the tight embrace of handcuffs.

"You know, I thought I would tire of you a long time ago." He says, circling her nude body. Cold metal slightly caressing parts of her skin, never hard enough to cut.

"Funny… after the first fuck I was done with you. However you just kept coming back." Lydia spits out.

He delivers a smack to her mouth. "But that mouth of yours always keeps me entertained." He watches her tug at her restraints. "Then I thought, my thoughts are always right! The only reason I haven't grown tired of you yet is due to the fact that I have yet to have my true way with you." He stops directly in front of her, his grin fully extended.

"And what is it you are just craving to do to me?" She asks, tilting her head to the side.

"In due time my dear, in due time." He steps closer to her revealed body. Placing a hand on her breasts, he squeezes them and takes in her painful look.

She only winces slightly and it causes him joy. His most prize possession does the best she can to hide an remote pain as he increases the pressure to the pieces of flesh. Her eyes stare into his and the only sign he gets from an pain is her biting her bottom lip. "Does it hurt?" His voice barely above a whisper.

"No." She whispers.

"Maybe I'm not doing this right." He chuckles darkly, "Scream so I'll know when it hurts."

He wraps his left arm around her bare waist, his right hand clenching her left breast. He begins to lower himself down, their eyes never leaving each other once. His lips lightly suck against her subtle flesh, his demon tongue flicking over her erect nub. It doesn't hurt her but she knows every angel has horns.

Her eyes never leave his. A slight pop is heard as he suctioned his lips from her breast. "No pain?" He asks, remaining near her breast. His lips lightly graze the erect flesh as she replies with a 'no' once again. "Hmmm." He says, replacing his mouth back on her breast.

She feels his teeth lightly pinch her skin. Joker not seeing her flinch, bites harder. Lydia fights every urge she has in her to not scream. Some satisfaction is reached as he feels his beautiful doll tense her body. He removes his mouth and looks down at her tender flesh. He wipes away some of the red from his lips to get a better look at the teeth marks as well as the color change of her skin.

Laughter sounds through the room. "You know, I forgot how 'tough' you are, or how stupid you are." He stands up fully and stretches his arms up to the handcuffs.

With a click, Lydia is on the cold floor, in pain. She is beyond weak at this point. Three days without food and her body still weak from blood loss. He steps forward but she pushes him away with all the strength she can muster. His laughter penetrates her eardrum causing her to clamp her hands around her ears. He begins to circle her like a shark.

He stomps on her back, his shoe connecting with her spine. A painful groan escapes her throat as her upper body connects with the floor. He squats down, grabbing locks of her hair. A painful expression sends a warmth through his body. He moves some strands of hair from her face and caresses her cheek in a mock kindness. Harsh breathing comes from her parted lips, her eyes glaring into the clowns.

He brings his lips down in a bruising force, biting her bottom lip. His kiss and nibbling is gentle but quickly changes. His teeth latch down tearing a small piece of skin from her lips. She lets out a cry of pain into his mouth. He removes his teeth but continues to kiss the girl with a scary force. She tries pushing him away but the effort proves futile.

She feels his tongue snake into her mouth, violating anything it can touch. The blood from her lip is sliding down her chin, some being caught into her mouth. Saliva and blood is all they can taste. Lydia tries to pull away from him once again but receives laughter. Joker pulls away, her blood coating his lips. He violently takes her chin into his hand; he is admiring his handy work. She places a hand on her lip, trying to stop the bleeding. He slaps her hand away and stands.

"Your hand won't stop the bleeding stupid girl." Her hands begin twitching to try and cover her nude body. "You're a failure in yourself." He disappears into the shadows. Her eyes switch back and forth, trying to find the meaning in his words.

"Everything you have strived to be… is ruined. No control." His face appears in front of her. A shudder takes over her weaken body. He sits down in front of her, removing his gloves and tossing them off to the side. He places a finger on her lip, drawing it back and looking at her life essence. He studies his finger momentarily before placing it in his mouth, his gifted tongue swirling around.

"If I'm a failure, why do you keep coming around?" She asks, venom in her voice.

He glances at her slightly and picks up his knife. He watches as her body tenses up, the blade slice the air. "Because **Lydia**. You are mine. You are my possession. I never abandon my things."

He places the tip to his index finger and cuts slightly. Blood begins to trickle out, curving around his pointed finger.

The dark haired beauty's eyes narrow slightly when Joker looks at her. "Come here." He says holding a hand out, bloody finger still erect. She sits there like a disobedient animal. "Fine, I'll come to you." A light, comical tone in his voice.

She begins to push her nude body away but his nails dig into her skin. With a quick jerk, Lydia slides back towards him. Her nails chip as her body is violently pulled back to him. Blood streaks the floor as some nails a torn jaggedly. He straddles her, grabbing the back of her neck. Shutting her mouth tightly, she tries to move her head until his grip becomes to hard to move.

"Oh come on! I tasted your sweet metallic blood. The least you can do is repay the favor."

Clenching her eyes shut, she feels his finger pry open her lips and soon her teeth. He shoves his finger down her throat, a smile plastered on his face. Her eyes begin to tear up. He hears a gagging sound in the back of her throat and all he can do is laugh. She bites down on the flesh but all he does it begin forcing his finger back and forth, raking his finger against her teeth. "Oh Lydia, one man's pain is another man's pleasure."

She releases her teeth from around his finger and stares at him. His finger touches the inside of her soft, soft cheek. He rubs back and forth, the sensation against his fingers reminds him of her soft, velvety womanhood. He removes his finger and slowly licks the blood that is still dripping from her mouth. He draws his head back, that malicious smile plastered on his delicate yet powerful face.

"See there are different people in this world." She looks away lazily, not in the mood for his 'speeches'. A smack sears her cheek. "Pay attention." A bare finger pointing in her face.

"You're fucking crazy!" She says, wiping away more of her blood.

A twitch appears at his lips. His hand shoots out around her throat and pulls her face inches from his. "Crazy? You think I'm crazy? I'm no**t** crazy." A murderous tone in his voice.

Lydia can't recall a moment the clown has truly scared her. His glazed off eyes give off an animalistic stare. She tries to shake her head, trying as hard as she can to take back the words she screamed. "You can't take it back girlie." A tone lighter.

Her mind searches for a way to make him stop. He loves her, she know he does! He can't do this to someone he loves. She is too weak to fight against him; they both know it. She reaches her frail hand up and grabs the back of his neck, forcing a kiss. A kiss of desperation. His hold is still against her throat but she climbs along his lap, they are almost in the same position the first night they had sex.

Her lips leave his and try to travel over the rest of his angered face. These kisses are supposed to show him how sorry she is for what she said. Her mind replays things he has done to others who have called him crazy. Of all words, 'crazy' is what sets him off. Maybe it's a form of denial. 'Freak' doesn't exactly get him riled up, why does crazy?

"Your kisses are no good here, lover." His hand is deeper into its grip.

Without warning, he practically picks her up and slams her against the floor. He is hovering over her, knelling in a sense. He watches as she begins to squirm, trying to get out from under his hold. With his free hand, he flicks out his tool of destruction. His eyes linger in hers, watching fear begin to form in her eyes and face.

He stands quickly, letting go of his choke hold. His shoe slams into her ribs. He smiles as he hears gasping for air and a pained mutter come from the cowering girl. He walks around her for a moment, his blade tapping lightly at his temple. He watches as she tries to squirm away from him but he puts a stop to that. He lunges down at her, grabbing her right thigh. She glances down at him, the blade beginning to get closer and closer to her thigh. She kicks him in the chest and tries to get away.

The kick hardly does anything to him. He grabs her ankle once more and drags her back towards him. She is screaming all the 'no's' she can muster all the while her nails are getting cut even more as she tries to stop her fate. He flips her back over on her back, her arms and hands still trying to push herself away. His eyes linger on her soft, warm flower and onto her right thigh. He places the blade on her thigh and begins toying with her. He watches her eyes get wider and wider when he presses the tip of the blade deeper and deeper into her tantalizing flesh.

His smile still plastered to his face, he digs the blade into her skin. The scream she lets out is music to his ears. He takes the blade further down her thigh, making a five inch laceration. Blood begins to spill out of the wound like water from a cup. Tears roll down her cheeks at the intense pain surging through her body. He sets the knife down and takes a needle and thick thread from his pocket. Her body is shaking from the amount of trauma her feeble body is going through. A quick prick in her thigh causes her to jump. She looks down at him through tearful eyes and sees he is stitching the cut up.

"Can't have you passing out from blood loss now can we?" He smiles up to her after he is finished. "Gotta have you awake and fully aware of what's going on."

He stands and walks to her upper torso, glancing at her bruised breasts and then to her face. He smiles at her when he connects with her eyes. He wipes the tears from her cheeks, blood mixing itself on her cheeks. He sets himself down next to her and begins to pull her body up and onto his lap. "You know Daddy doesn't mean to hurt you right?" He asks, stroking pieces of her sweat drenched hair.

He is answered by her muffled sobs. "If you just did everything I ask you to, we wouldn't have this problem. But you've gone and angered me so you must get punished. I hate doing it to you but you'll never learn." He tells her, a mock sorrow in his voice.

"I can… I'll learn." She says through sobs. Her hands are clenching his vest, his royal purple jacket already removed. She looks up at him with pleading eyes. His unforgiving eyes look down at her. "No Lydia, I'm afraid it's too late. I'm going to have to punish you tonight… maybe after this you will learn and it will never happen again." His hand beginning to drift downward along her back.

"No, Jack please." She pleads as he moves her body. Her back is against his chest, she feels him undoing his belt buckle.

"You want to know something that really makes me angry about you, Lydia?" He asks, getting the belt off and moving her body downward, across his lap. "Before you, I never had sexual urges. I was hell bent on causing chaos in Gotham, never once thinking about the warmth in between legs. Now, I catch myself thinking about what it would be like to be back inside of you once more."

She is laying across his lap, her backside facing him. He runs his hands across her lower back, across her bottom, and in between her thighs. He slides a thumb into her folds, feeling the warmth and wetness close in around his thumb. His index finger slides up to her bud, beginning to massage it in rhythm to the motion his thumb is traveling in.

"Look at me now. I'm sitting here supposed to be punishing you and all I am doing is rewarding you. You've made me into a fool, Lydia." Her body relaxes against his, eyes shutting slightly. "It feels good doesn't it? I'm going to have to change that…" He slides his thumb from the warmth and brings his finger to his mouth, lubricating it.

He grabs her hair and yanks her up. She lets out a cry as she is sitting on his lap once more. He places a hand around her torso, trapping her arms at her side. Taking his finger from his mouth, he slides it down further and further to around the same spot it just was. However, instead of placing it in her warm cavern; he places it at the entrance of her bottom.

She sucks in air and begins to try and move away from the painted man. His arm around her torso begins to tighten. She isn't going anywhere. He pushes his finger in and chuckles darkly in her ear. Small pain noises escape her mouth, her eyes clenched shut. He pushes further in and slowly pulls it out and back in. She yanks her body, trying to get away from his prying finger. Over and over, the sensation she is forced to feel never gets any better. He takes his finger out and begins to unbutton his pants. Lydia tries to jerk away from him once more but Joker yanks her back.

"You'll get use to it…" He whispers in her ear. He pushes her off of his lap. Her body lands facedown on the floor and is quickly pounced upon. One hand is holding her arms down, his body keeping her from escaping the position she is in. He spits on his hand and rubs it all over his engorged member. With his hand still around himself, he guides it to her ass and penetrates her being. She lets out a small scream of pain, her eyes clenched as tightly shut as she can.

He lets go of her hands and places a hand on her waist, his body raising slowly and falling back into her. She grits her teeth and tries to get him out of her. He kisses her neck and moans into her ear. Her hand comes to his waist and tries to push him away from her. A hand comes to her wrist and moves it. He begins to thrust into her harder and quicker. This action merits more screams from the woman underneath him. More moans escape from his mouth as tears wail up in her eyes and drop to the floor.

He pulls himself out and walks away from her body. The tightness is something he is addicted to. Lydia can't move from the spot she is in. Water runs as he washes himself off. Nothing is on his person but he doesn't want to take any chances. Footsteps are heard nearing her body. "See what your body does to me?" He says, bending down and grabbing her hair.

He makes her get on her knees. A hand runs through her hair as if to calm her down. He moves her face closer to his clean member and makes her take him into her mouth. She doesn't move her mouth up and down so he begins to rock his hips back and forth. The grip in her hair becomes tighter. "Suck." He mutters.

Her cheeks suck inward, answering his request. The tightness in her mouth becomes evident as the friction grows greater. He slams her face into his groin, causing her to gag against him. Tears form as he moves her head quickly, never letting himself come out from her throat. She places her hands against his hips to try and take her mouth from him. He growls slightly and slams into her throat. She feels the contents in her stomach come up into her throat. He exits her mouth and allows the liquid to spit from her mouth.

Stomach bile. Nothing else in her stomach could come out. She cringes at the taste of her own bile. Her arms weakly hold her up as more bile comes from her mouth. He begins to laugh at her and kicks her in her side. She falls to the floor, her body wracking with more and more pain. His hand is holding onto his member, silently rubbing it back and forth. He sits down once more and brings her body on top of his lap. Using his hand, he makes his head rub up against her clit and down her lips. "Do you want this anymore?" He asks, watching her face.

Her head is bowed, her hair covering her face. She shakes her head, hoping he'll stop. "No?" He whines. "But I think you do." He growls into her ear. "How else are you going to learn?" He lifts her head, tucking strands of hair behind her ear.

"Please. Just let me be. I won't mess up anymore…" She manages to get out against her cries. She is accepting she has done something wrong. She feels his hands on her waist, positioning her warmth directly above him. Her head falls onto his shoulder, one hand clenched in on his shirt and her arm draped around his back. She feels herself get impaled by him. She lets out a weaken moan as he slides her body up and down.

"Give me a reason why I should stop." He whispers in her ear. She says something but he can't hear. "What was that doll face? I can't hear you." His nails dig into her skin. He grunts and lets out a moan. Once again she says something but he can't hear her.

He pushes his possession to the floor and resumes what he had planned all along. He looks at her unresponsive face and squeezes her thigh with bruising force. He throws her leg around his waist, continuing to thrust in and out. He moves a hand to her face and makes her look at him dead in his eyes. "Tell me, what is your reason?" He asks with a hiss.

He lowers his face down to her neck, giving it small kisses and large bites. "Because I love you." She can barely whisper into his ear. His body freezes. He can't thrust, he can't kiss or bite. He moves his face to hers. "What?" He barks out.

Tears streak down her cheeks, almost ashamed to repeat her answer. "I-I love… you." How can she love a monster like him? It's sick and twisted but so is the object of her affection. She feels him exit her. He stands quickly and pulls his pants back up quickly. He stares down at her nude form, covered in blood and bruises. It's things he has done to her.

He picks her weak body up in his arms and takes her from the room. Turns out the little room is the basement of Lydia's house. He carries her upstairs and places her on the bed. Something called human compassion struck into his mind. He backs up, hitting the dresser across from the bed with his back. Her eyes are already shut against the pillow. Shock is the only emotion that can be read on his painted face. He storms from the room, trying to collect and gather his thoughts.

The little woman laying in the bed has been through too much for one night. Her mind fights with itself about what happened. _He raped me. No! No, he didn't you. You deserve everything that happened to you. You needed to be taught a lesson and he did._ So it's settled, with him there is no such thing as rape. She knows she is a bad person and he had to fix it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for the reviews! N0tthesun: That song does really remind me of Lydia, I never thought of it. She suggested the song 'Always A Woman' by Billy Joel reminds her of Lydia and I have to agree.**

**This chapter is kind of a filler, a long filler thank god. Expect another chapter possibly by the end of the night to tomorrow for this story. Trying to stay inventive and produce longer chapters. Any suggestions are very much welcomed. It's always interesting to hear suggestions for the story. I'll give credit don't worry. But if no suggestions, you'll get what I have in my brain. Read and Review!**

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* * *

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Day turns to night and she still sleeps. He comes to check on her wellbeing, cleaning the blood that her 'savior' has left. The kind eyes lifts the wet cloth, careful not to press too hard. The one with the eternal smile makes no appearance to the house after his love declares the unforgiving words. Instead, the one who she thought suffered a horrible fate by the Joker, is the one who cares for her.

Robert slips in at every hour, just to make sure she is still breathing. He came upon the room in which Joker had his way with Lydia and a pain is sent straight through his heart. The broken fingernails on the ground. The blood, oh the blood. He has yet to clean the room, his attention fully on the broken woman.

He rarely sleeps, afraid Joker will come back and finish what he started. Placing a wet rag to her forehead, he gently washes away the blood. He takes her chin into his hands and begins to clear the blood and red make-up from around her mouth. He hears a noise behind him, indicating someone's presence. The older man turns and discovers the one with the name of Batman at one of the large windows.

"Getting a little slobby, sir?" Robert says to the dark figure.

Bruce doesn't care at the moment who sees him. His eyes travel to the young woman's form, resting underneath the heavy covers.

"He did this to her?" He asks, taking a step closer to the man and Lydia.

Robert looks down at the young woman and nods. He lifts her hand, seeing the broken nails and blood. He begins to rub each one, delicately. "I'm afraid so."

Bruce, or Batman, looks down at the slumbering woman. Sorrow stings at his heart. It's no lie that Bruce cares for her. Ever since the first time he met her, he has always had something for her. The way her delicate fingers would travel across the piano keys. The innocence of life in her eyes. But Joker took her and twisted every part of her being.

Bruce doesn't understand why some girls hold Joker on a high level. Teenage girls find him so… alluring. The danger that comes along with his smile. Joker is not a person of love, compassion, or empathy. He is a murderer. What makes the girls believe that they might be the one person who can change him? What makes them think that he will actually care for them?

So they have sex, in their minds, and then the psychopath spills his heart of how he wants a normal life full of love and happiness? No. The clown is not capable of that at all. Girls find his scares alluring; they find his actions as a cry for attention. Teenage girls say what is under the make-up is who he really is. What is under the make-up is what helps make him who he is today. The scars, no less, were given to him in a violent way; only helping him to become as violent as the actions he commit.

And now Lydia is the one who suffers from all of his 'hurt' and 'need for attention'. The girls who think Joker is someone other than who he really is deserve to be locked in Arkham, not able to run around on the streets. Bruce looks at the woman once more before leaving, vowing silently to track Joker down and make him pay for every speck of blood she lost.

* * *

_He is at his apartment, dusty and cold. The words… __'Because I love you….'_ trailing in and out of his mind frame. He sits in a chair, no light is welcomed in the room. Brooding, he places his bare hands on his head, running his fingers through his greasy hair. He begins to rock his body back and forth, feeling the inner folds of his mind begin to collapse in itself. He had it all until he decided to have a side project.

A knock at the door sounds through the room as he stops rocking and looks towards the wooden rectangle. He grunts and opens the door to be greeted by a goon of his.

"Boss, we found some like you asked." He says with a smug look on his face.

"Ah, innocent and subtle…" Joker turns from the door and puts his gloves back on.

The goon walks back to the living room, being followed by his boss. The henchmen were given order to go out and find some little fan girls. To their luck, it wasn't difficult at all. Three girls stand, shaking from nerves, but eyes covered by blindfolds. He makes a movement indicating to place the three into a room and to lock it.

He walks back to his room and locks his door. He stands momentarily, hands on his hips, staring at his bed. He walks and lays down on his back, trying to let sleep come to his mind. Images of explosions, fire and a silhouette against the bright flames.

He feels himself standing there, watching as the figure begins to come towards him. A person walks into their path, the only identification for the man is a bowlers hat and a tie with a large question mark. The figure grabs the 'mystery' man and shoves a blade underneath his jaw. The blade is seen glinting blood red as the mystery man opens his mouth. The blade begins to move around penetrating the tongue, cheeks and anything else in its path.

The man falls to the ground, bleeding from the mouth. Joker watches as the figure continue walking towards him. The flames shine on its face and Lydia is revealed to him. She walks closer and closer until she is directly in front of him. No smile is on her face, scrapes and cuts from the night previous on her face. She runs her hands along his chest and wraps her left hand around the back of his neck.

Joker smiles as he feels the blade touch the same place the other man met his fate. A fire is blazing in her eyes as she begins to add pressure to the blade's tip. It begins to pierce his skin and soon feels the blade rip through his tongue. His blood begins to pour from the wound, down his shirt. She lets her grip go and he falls to the floor, dead.

Opening his eyes, he lazily places a hand to the underside of his jaw. He is unsure if it is a premonition of his fate or just a dream. The look in her eyes almost reminds him of his own. He leans over and takes pills to aid in his quest for sleep and pops them into his mouth. He wants so badly to return to his dreams. His dreams in which Lydia infiltrates them, having her way with the sadist.

* * *

She is sitting up in bed, staring at her reflection in the distant mirror. She places a fingertip on the area of lip in which Joker bit the skin off. A shudder resonates through her body, eyes shut taking her back to the night. The way his fingers crept all over her body. The bruises that form along her skin. Moving slightly, she feels an intense pain course through her midsection, the area where the most abuse occurred.

Robert walks in with the requested items. Lydia rejected his offer of pain medicine but gladly accepted his offer of alcohol. He hands her the drink of rum and Dr. Pepper as well as a semi-automatic. She downs the liquid quickly and hands the glass back to him. She pushes a clip in and cocks it, ready to shoot anyone who is not supposed to be in her room or her house.

"How long…?" She asks, setting her arms down to her sides.

"Four days ma'am." He mutters, stepping into the hallway to bring more of her drink to her.

Her eyes glance down under the covers and finds more bruises and blood. She is completely nude and knows Robert never took a glance under the covers. A finger runs over the stitched up area on her inner thigh. She shuts her eyes and remembers the feel of the knife as it sliced through her leg. The soft pricks of a needle and the tension as thread runs through to close it.

She opens her eyes as Robert walks back in with the bottle of rum and four cans of the beverage. She takes the glass, already full, back and drinks most of what is in her glass. She glances down at her nails and discovered they weren't ripped out but severely destroyed.

"Can you… hand me that gown?" She indicates towards the small black gown hanging up.

He hands it to her and she quickly puts it on. Moving the covers back, her butler of sorts gets a glance of her leg. His eyes widen at the torment this woman must have gone through. She places a foot on the floor, followed by another. She struggles to gain her footing, the pain in her body making it all the more harder for her to walk to the bathroom.

"Do you need any help Master Valmont?" he calls to her.

"Please don't call me that. And no, I'll be fine. The pain will pass… I just have to let it." She says shutting the door to the bathroom.

She takes another step but falls to the ground. She grabs the edge of the tub and pulls herself back up. She is still weak, the only substance in her system is the alcohol and the soda. It's a stupid decision but Lydia isn't a fan of food. Grabbing a towel, she runs water over it and begins to clean the blood from her legs.

_Am I hopeless? Am I doomed to be the way he makes me? So I have acted out against him and I had to be punished. But he does it out of love, I know it. There is something in his twisted heart that loves me, I know it. He __**has**__ to love me. These acts are out of love, tough love. _

* * *

The reaction wasn't quite what he planned. When the blindfolds were taken from the three girls eyes, they all instantly smiled and were quite… happy. It didn't shock him but irritated him slightly. He glances at each one, taking in their appearance.

Girl one is blonde with green eyes. She is about five feet, four inches. She has weight on her but not enough to be considered that unattractive. She has a rather large nose and thin lips. Eyebrows are a bit thick but not overbearing. Her face is round with moles dotting her cheeks.

Girl two is a red head with brown eyes. She is a rather thick girl. Her skin is a bit broken out and he immediately decides to have nothing to do with her.

Girl three is something more of what he likes. She has medium length dark hair. Her eyes are a brown color. Her face isn't too thin but it is pointy. She has a small frame with small breasts. Her legs are long and crossed underneath her. Joker looks at her a bit longer and realizes she looks a lot like Lydia.

A smile comes across his face as he walks closer to her and squats down. The girl stares back at him, a silent thrill running through her body. He flicks a blade out and waves it in front of her face. Her eyes follow it, almost in a trance. He glances over at the other two girls who are watching, a jealous look in their eyes.

He chuckles. "What's your name doll?" He asks, flicking the blade across her cheek.

"Lucy." She replies.

"Lucy in the sky with diamonds…" He mutters, grabbing a lock of the girls hair.

"So you all… hold a special place for me in your hearts! I'm so touched!" He says standing and placing a hand on his chest. "Why exactly is this?"

Girl one is quick to reply. "Because I know that under your make-up you are lonely! You are missing love and you need someone to show you kindness."

"And you think you're the one to do it?" He asks, glancing down at her.

"I think I am fully capable! I'm in love with you and you'll fall in love with me! We can have children now if you want. I'm better than that filthy little harlot you once had. She aban-" Joker quickly smacked the girl across the face.

"Rule number **one**. You are never to mention her. Her name or anything about her is not to come from your filthy mouth." He growls.

The one known as Lucy glances at the girl who spoke and laughed silently. Joker glances over at her for a moment and begins to walk back to the young and naive girl. "And what about you?" He squats down in front of her.

"I hold you in my heart for several reasons. You being the murdering sociopath I imagine you have been around the block quite a few times. I expect you know _everything_ to do when it comes to pleasuring yourself… and others." A coy smile on her smug face.

"So you have a little special place for me in that slow beating heart for yours because…" He cuts the top of her shirt revealing what little cleavage the girl has, "You believe I can… fuck your brains out." He smiles at her.

"More or less." She replies, arching her back slightly to bring her breasts into better view.

"Uh huh… You want to know how I got these scars?" He asks, coming dangerously close to her.

He watches the girls face change from seduction to fear. He snatches the back of Lucy's neck and places the blade into her mouth.

"You see… there was this girl and **me**. This girl was just cra-zy. We flirted and chatted. One day things go a little toooo far. Next thing I know, this girl has my little 'joker' in her mouth and I can't exactly do anything to stop it. Well after that things got toooo intense. She would follow me around, call at all hours of the night," The blade cut just a small piece of skin causing a small trickle of blood to come from her mouth, "So I ignore her. I begin seeing another girl, much more beautiful and a little bit more sane. She sees this and decides to corner me, a blade in her hand. She had someone come behind me and hit me in the head… I get woozy and unable to defend myself. I see through parted eyes the glimmer of the blade. She tells me 'You never wanted anything serious. You used me like an object.' Well now all I can do is laugh at her, even though this is a **very** serious situation. So the blade in her hands finds its way to my mouth, just to keep me from laughing. She slices once, I am still laughing. She slices again, I can't stop myself from laughing still. But you know what is **seriously funny**…" He stops and looks over at the terrified girls. "She made it to were I don't have to worry about having stalkers ever again."

He slices through both cheeks, hearing a gargle of blood coming from the mangled girl. He begins to laugh as he makes his way to the other girls. He kills the second girl but lifts the first one who was so eager to confess her 'love' for him and drag her from this tiny little room.

Opening the door, Joker throws the girl inside and swiftly locks the door. The girl stumbles and falls to the floor, no laughter coming from him this time. He hooks his foot underneath her body and flips the girl to her back. The girl tries to crawl backwards to escape him but only manages to anger the man even further.

"Why do you move from me? Is this not you imagined it out to be?" He bends down and yanks the girl up from the floor.

"N-no." She stammers out. No actual smile forms from his lips but his scars give him the smile he should trademark.

"No?" His voice in mocking form. "Well… I must work on that. The man of your dreams…" He mutters, pulling even harder on her hair.

She begins to struggle against him, finally realizing nothing good is going to come from this. She feels his arms wrap around her, trapping her against him. He moves hair from her face and begins to place bites against her neck. She struggles even more at his actions. He releases her, letting her own force send her to the ground.

"Now how are we going to be able to 'make love' if you resist me?" He asks, stepping closer.

"I-I don't want to anymore." She scoots further back.

"But you've gotten my hopes high and you back out now?" He flicks his knife out. "If there is anything that saddens me more… Is me getting my hopes up about getting sucked off and then you become a teeease." His eyes were floating around but ends up on the cowering girl.

A sob comes from the girl on the floor as she finally realizes she has been idolizing a psychopath. Laughter finally comes from the psychopath's throat. Leaning down, directly in front of the now hysterical girl, a hand shoots out and grabs the girls jaw. A scream is emitted from the room followed by maniacal

laughter.


	5. Chapter 5

**I wanted a new chapter up by the night and so I did it. Its purpose is to help with some character insight. In addition, Riddler is in this chapter. I know rumors of Johnny Depp being the character for the next movie so I used his appearance for the character. The suit is something else I found. Go to google and type in 'The Riddler', it should come up. **

**Thanks for the reviews, you all are simply amazing. **

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Lucas runs up the house steps, juggling her purse, groceries, a pack of cigarettes and her cell phone. She mutters to herself the wonderfully bright idea of putting her cancer sticks and useless phone into her purse. Of course, she never thinks about things that actually make sense. Hearing a crack of thunder and a flash of lightening, she scurries inside and kicks her shoes from her small feet. She flicks the light on quickly and walks to the kitchen area to begin to unload her food.

She sees a flashing light, signaling the answering machine has a new message; Lucas immediately rolls her eyes. She is new to Gotham City, no lie in that but her family is the only people who have this number. She walks, dreading whom it may be that called her. Reason as to why the newcomer is slightly irritated is how her family talks and talks of nothing even close to important. Some say that they wish she would come home; others say she is completely stupid for coming to this city in the first place. Sure enough, after the beep, her mother's voice comes into the room asking her to come home.

Her mother recently found out about a breakout in the asylum named Arkham. Over and over her mother pleaded with no reason in her voice to come home at once. She rolls her eyes and walks back into the kitchen.

"Maybe if I'm lucky the big ole Joker will come walking into my kitchen and give me some excitement." She mutters under her breath.

"How about someone a little more sane?" A female's voice shoots from the shadows.

Lydia walks from the darkness and into the light. The girl screams and tries to run away before the grabbing of her hair stops her. An odd click noise is heard as the barely sane woman sucks on her teeth. "Lets make this easier and you not run." She says, glancing around the kitchen.

"W-what do you want with me?" Lucas asks, standing only on her knees.

"It's not what I want. It is what he wants. I personally could give two shits about your pathetic life. However, the big ole Joker," She mocks Lucas and yanks a little harder, "Sees you as a little bit more… **useful**." She hissed out.

Lydia releases the girl's hair and throws her upper body to the ground. "Now, you want to tell me why it is he is interested in a little slut like you?" She asks, walking in front of the crying girl.

She squats down and begins to wipe away the girl's tears. "Aw, did that hurt your feelings, sugar?" She asks, eventually slapping the girl's cheeks.

Lucas is hesitant to answer but screams out as the intruder smacks the hell out of her face. She looks down at the cowering girl. They have similar looks, allowing Lydia to mistake the girl for her. Her mind is not in the right spot. Insanity creeps in quicker by the moment. She rolls her eyes and kicks the girl in the face, causing more cries of pain and fear to erupt from her now bloody mouth.

Lydia leans down and shoves a blade through her bottom jaw. She moves the knife around, cutting the tendons of her tongue. Gargles of blood are heard as blood pours back into her throat. The murder's eyes flash recognition as she pulls the knife from her victim's mouth.

"No! No, don't worry… I'll never let him hurt you again…" She speaks, her voice wavering.

She pulls the body up to chest and begins to rock back and forth, trying to calm the already dead body. Muffled sounds come from the body and like a mother; Lydia shushes her as she strokes her bloody hair.

"I told you I will never let him hurt you again." She whispers to the dead girl.

* * *

Joker is busy pacing along a rooftop building, a hand flicking into his pocket just to make sure the trigger is there. His goons are busy installing bombs into the various areas he assigned. His mind travels back to the girl who loves him. It has been roughly two weeks since he last saw her, though he has been going around town spying on girls who look like her. It is the only thing he can really do; he can't face her again. The reason as to why he is completely unsure.

"Riddle me this… riddle me that… what is never seen but causes severe destruction?" A simple riddle thrown out into the night air.

A grunt comes from his lips as he glances back, over his shoulder. "A bomb." He replies, his eyes looking at random buildings.

"My, my, friend. It was a fairly simple riddle but I didn't expect you to answer so quickly." He walks from the shadows.

"Yeah, can you shut up? A man can barely hear his own plans and the screaming of Gotham's soul with you barking behind me." He replies, placing a hand in his pocket once again just to make sure the trigger is in place.

A static from a radio is heard when a voice comes over saying, 'Everything is in place.' A smile forms along the lunatic's lips as he pulls the device from his pockets. With a quick giggle, he presses the trigger button and the Gotham Bridge is destroyed. He watches from the rooftop as car plummet to their watery graves. Screams are heard as people run from their apartment buildings. Sirens already sound as more rubble fall into the water. "Now, how do you want to do this? Fast or slow?" Joker asks, turning to meet the intruder.

The one who spoke the riddle to the court jester stands confidently. Joker gives him a glance and takes in his new opponent or potential sidekick. The two share a common ground for cryptic messages. His outfit is majority a hunter green shade. His pants are dress pants, one that a person would wear to church. He wears a jacket, almost like Joker himself, except the Riddler does not have the 'tails' but stops a little past his waist. He wears green leather gloves in which hold a cane with an emerald as the top. The shirt with the nice collar is hunter green, just as everything else. He wears a bowlers hat, green as well. His tie, however, is white with an emerald question mark in the center. A black question mark resides on the hat as well as black question marks going down his cane.

"So, you're the question mark that threw that bomb down at the ports about two or three months back." A childlike tone in the Joker's voice.

A nod answers the clown's question. He steps forward to allow the lights to show his face. Layered jaw length hair, which is rather tidy versus Jokers. His skin is a nice tan color, though he is Caucasian. He has hardened brown eyes, almond shaped. His upper lip and jaw is lined with dark hair. His face is pointed, nice cheekbones. His nose is strong, pointed as well as his jaw. He is the same height as the Joker however, he carries himself with esteem. He is not hunched over, though the person in front of him usually has bad posture. This man, the Riddler, had girls swooning over him before he became who he is today.

"Just who are you, friend?" Joker asks, a fake smile crossing his lips.

"The name is… The Riddler." He holds a hand out and bows slightly.

Joker's cheeks puff out slightly as he sucks on his teeth. He walks around Riddler, almost circling him. "So many people coming out who put 'the' on the front of their name… And what is your purpose in Gotham, Riddley?"

"You are going to work with me in taking over the mindless twits of Gotham." He states, placing his hands on top of one another on the cane.

"Oh I am going to? I like to see the D-listed criminals of Gotham try and work their way up. What I don't like…" He flicks a blade out, "Is scum criminals like you trying to use me as a step up. And let me tell you, I am no step up latter. Tell me… all these question marks… what does it represent? Sexual identity? Hmmm?" He smiles and laughs to his own 'joke'.

"Not quite. I am a master of sorts. A master of puzzles and riddles. We'll be in contact. I feel I should give you the night to think over my proposal. Evening Joker." The Riddler waves like a beauty queen and disappears into the shadows.

Rather than chunk the knife towards his back, he stands there with a squinted eye as he walks off. Joker isn't confused but just… just Joker. He looks back at the beautiful scene of redecorating and decides now would be a good time to get the hell off the building. No telling where the Bat is tonight.

* * *

"This is the fifth girl in a matter of a week and a half." Detective Stephens states, looking down at the lifeless body.

The new lieutenant steps forward and looks down at the scene. "Same thing as the other girls. Dark hair, dark eyes, small body frame… Joker must be killing them because of Lydia. Not quite sure of the motive… There is no mistake about it. Knife wounds along her jaw." He squats down to get a better look at the knife wound.

"It's defiantly his trademark what with the knives. Tongue tendons have been cut. This is truly a horrible way to die. That sick bastard…" He stands and walks from the kitchen.

* * *

Lydia feels the hot water wash away the blood from her hands as well as her legs. Her hands shake as she rubs blood from her hair. She steps from the direct spray and sets herself down. Flashes of red hit her eyelids. Laughter begins to pierce her eardrums. She slams her hands on her ears and begins to rock herself back and forth, trying to subdue her subconscious.

Steam rolls from her shoulders, blood runs down the tile of the shower. Biting her lower lip, she slowly opens an eye just to make sure the laughter is truly gone. She begins to crawl along the tile, her knees splashing up water. She peaks her head out from behind the curtain and looks back and forth, as if she is crossing the street. Like an animal, she crawls from the shower and into the main walkway of the bathroom. Her eyes are wide in sheer panic.

He is close. He is close. He is here. Please, let him be here. I love him too much to not see him. She pulls herself up, her reflection almost making her scream. She watches herself in the mirror. It is as if Lydia has forgotten that a mirror holds a reflection, not another person. She runs from the room, dripping wet with water. She stops in the middle of her room and glances around. Raising an eyebrow, she runs to the door and locks the door.

"Ha! Now you have to fight to see me!" She says, jumping up and down and clapping slightly.

"What's happened to you Lydia?" The voice of Bruce calls from behind her.

She practically jumps out of her skin, her heart lodged in her throat and stays there. Her face changes form from fear to anger.

"You aren't the one who is supposed to fight. I don't want to see you." She says, glaring at the man in a black rubber suit.

She walks over to the dresser, slowly; her fingers wrap around a knife handle. Bruce looks at her bone white knuckles holding the knife. The two take turns sizing each other up. Bruce, in his boots, makes a soft pounding sound as he walks in an unidentified circle. Lydia, her bare wet feet, move along silently.

"Why are you like this Lydia? Why did you let him get to you? He is scum and you weren't." He says, trying to reason with her.

"Don't speak of him like that. I am the only one who may speak of him Bat-Fart." She spits out, giggling slightly at the newest nickname.

He looks at the knife and other things. His eyes drift along her arm, to her shoulder, to her breast, to the area of shame on Lydia. "Like what you see Mr. Wayne?" She asks, almost displaying her body to him.

"You aren't stable. I'm not going to touch you that way." He says, taking a step closer.

"Really? However, when I just kill a few people and I am in my 'right' mind… you don't mind kissing me. That's fucked up." The more she talks, the saner she is sounding. "Am I not good enough for the billionaire playboy?" She asks, making her mouth a false pout; her voice carrying a false tone of upset.

"You were never good enough." He states.

Lydia stares at him for a moment. Her look is resentment, upset, and anger. Her arm drops to her side, the knife's blade pointing downward. Anger surges in her eyes as she grits her teeth.

"But the senseless plastic tits are the ones who are worthy of your time? Ha, please. You need someone just as messed up and confused as you. I'm not girl for you though sweetheart. I am too wrapped up in the essence of Gotham's Clown prince. Call me crazy but at least I fit in with half the population of this 'wonderful' city." She states, stepping forward.

The two are close, any closer they could be touching. "Stand by and take no action. Tell you what Brucey, stay out of my way for… a few weeks. You'll get to keep your head as will many of the lifeless souls you protect." A finger gliding along his armor.

"And what are these few weeks going to do for you?" He asks.

"You'll find out. Hopefully no one will go boom in a warehouse full of gasoline." She says, a smile crossing her lips and laughter engulfing the covered ears of Batman.

He grabs a hold of her arms and begins to shake her silly. Lydia's head jerks back and forth, laughter still coming from her throat.

"Don't you ever fucking say that. I should kill you where you stand!" He shouts into her face.

"Oh, but what about that one rule. You'll never break it Batboy." She manages to say through laughter.

Batman backhands her as she falls to the ground. She spits her own blood to the floor, still laughing. She looks up at him, blood covering her teeth. "Did I hit a nerve?" She asks, lying against the cold floor.

He stares down at her and walks to the window. She watches as he disappears through it as she begins to laugh once more. Her fingers come up to her hair and twirls her damp locks with her finger. She begins to roll around on the floor, loving the sensation of the cold against her skin.

"Another visit from Batman, I presume?" The door opens and Robert stands there, shielding his eyes from her nude form.

"How did you guess?" She asks, her stomach resting against the floor as her legs move back and forth behind her.

Robert walks to the closet and drapes the robe around her body. "Laughter and yelling." He says, "Is there anything I can get you?" He asks walking to the door.

"Alcohol. I know you think I'm an addict…" She sits herself up, her back facing him as she places the robe upon her unclothed body, "But I like the way it tastes. It helps me… forget." She mutters the last part.

"As you wish Ms. Lydia."

"Forget…" She mutters again, staring at the wall ahead of her.

**Next chapter should be out sometime tomorrow, I am thinking. Won't be as rushed. Well, review if you liked it.**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Just to let everyone know, I have not forgotten about this story. My laptop's adaptor died so my laptop died. I got a new one yesterday.**

**Also, I have a new job at a daycare working with 1 to 3 year olds. I work pretty much all week until six at night and as you can imagine working with that young of children can tire you out. But have no fear, I am off on weekends AND I will be updating the story sometime today.**

**I'll still put out updates on the weekdays as well.**

**Just letting all of my readers know that I haven't forgotten about you or this story and you will most certainly get everything you want... I think.**

**Also, I am looking for a beta reader. So if anyone is interested please message me and let me know. We can work something out PLUS you will be the first one to read the chapters. Ouu, that is something you can't resist. Hahaha.**

**xx Jenna**


	7. Chapter 7

**Okay, so finally a chapter is up. It took forever I know. Like I mentioned before working with young children from the ages of one to four, energy drain! But I wrote this chapter over the course of three days on paper since I wasn't able to be around my laptop. The next update will NOT take this long, I promise you all that. I have the next chapter to 'Sleepwalking' almost finished.**

**If anyone is wanting more action, just say the word. I am planning on something to happen that is action-like but I have yet to think of it properly. **

**Hope you all enjoy! Please review if you can.**

**(By the way, I hate asking people to review the story but I can't help it.) **

* * *

A slumbering Lydia is what welcomes him into the dimly lit room. Her chest rises and falls in rhythm with his heartbeat. Moonlight casts in through the parted drapes, showering her face with beautiful light. He walks quietly, not wanting to wake the sleeping beauty.

Lowering his eyes to her sleeping form, he discovers dry blood caked on her fingers. Smirking at the sight, he lifts her fingers slightly to take in more of what her tasks have been since he last saw her. Though the source of the problem hasn't been around, Lydia still carries out what he started.

She moves slightly, her head turning away from him. Pieces of her raven hair falls upon her face making her look all the more innocent and angelic. He moves the strands of hair from her face and sets her hand back down, across her stomach. He looks to the window as it shines in rays of moonlight. Her porcelain skin seemingly causing her to glow. The light falsely gives her the glow that Joker remembers when he first came across his obsession.

Thinking back to the charity event, he remembers everything as if it happened mere moments ago, The windows are parted allowing various music flow from the warm room to the cold streets. He is set up in the building opposite, planning to blow it sky-high. He hasn't done so yet for his love of classical music. It can really inspire a person to cause some damage; Music for a madman. As it leads to its 'climax', so to speak, the music explodes as if it were meant for certain acts.

He has seen her before but was too busy with other plans to give her the attention she so rightfully deserves. He notices the way Bruce Wayne's eyes are glued to her. The way the twinkle in his eye glints as she finishes the 'Fur Elise'. As she rises he notices her small form, he imagines she will come up to his chest area perhaps once the two are standing in front of each other.

He snaps back to reality, to present time in which he knows how tall she is against him. The present time of how he knows she has a smart and dirty mouth. He turns around towards the bed and is surprised to see that Lydia is no longer slumbering nor is she on the bed. A small smile forms on his red painted lips as he remembers just how sneaky she is. He remembers past times in which she would play games with him when he was irritated. He always loved hide and seek as their games would end with either spankings or a lustful night in which he takes his irritations out through her.

"I don't feel like playing games with you." He speaks, unknowing if she is in the room anymore.

He feels a blade against his throat and fingers beginning to run through his hair. He hears the intake of breath as Lydia takes in his smell.

"God how I've missed you." She mutters against the nape of his neck. Her fingers entwine themselves through his greasy hair and yanks his head back.

"But you're a fool for coming back. Want to give me a reason why I shouldn't just... slice you up?" She runs the blade carelessly over his throat.

"I missed you." He says with a false sincere tone.

"Afraid not." Her voice goes higher in octaves; sounding like a bad actor.

"Thought you might want to know that I know who the 'Question Mark Man' is." He replies feeling the blade being removes from his throat as well as her fingers from his hair.

She pushes him away and allows for him to turn around. Running her tongue along the inside of her cheek, she shifts her weight. Sapphire eyes watch as the clown in purple straightens his clothing back out. "Don't you look... tantalizing." He remarks about her clothing.

She grips the knife even harder as her anger level is beginning to rise. Her pearly whites bite down on the insides of her cheeks. Her eyes glance down at her outfit. Lydia is dressed in a black nighty that comes down dangerously to her thighs. He begins to circle her, watching her eyes follow him. Looking down, Joker spots a pink scar along the inside of her thigh.

"You see... he is the reason you were locked up in Arkham. I know you want to extract some revenge. His name is... The Riddler." He said, tucking some stray hair behind her ear.

"The Riddler? Why is it you haven't taken care of him?" She questions him.

He smiles and walks ever so closely towards her. "Because sweetpea, he's yours. I have bigger things to worry about or blow up. Besides, I have no vendetta against him." He says as he brings his hands together behind his back as well as his face directly in front of hers.

She smirks and moves slightly in amusement. He wants her to come out and play again; like old times. Her smirks leaves her face as his gloved hand touches her shoulder. Memories flood her mind of the night he broke her and left her.

Images show blood, uncovered pieces of flesh, and tears. His voice floods her thoughts of how she deserved everything he did to her. He should have carved her face when he was done; leave her for dead. She shallows hard as she fights the images away. She decides to extract her revenge much later on her dreadful lover. The Riddler is priority number one. The Joker will be the last order of business; She is hired to kill him after all.

Moving back, away from his grip, she places a cigarette into her mouth and lights it up quickly. She pulls on a pair of black pajama pants on and exhales the smoke from her pale lips. The cigarette is hanging from her lips as she clicks the hammer to her gun; it's previous location in the drawer with her pants. Her guest hears this and turns towards her, curiosity shining in his eyes.

His inner right thigh begins to burn as Lydia shoots. "Thought we should both have a scar in the same place." She tells him, taking the dangerous stick from her mouth.

His hand touches the wetness and brings his blood drenched fingertips to his face. He flicks a blade from his pocket and begins to limb slightly towards her. She clicks the hammer again, this time aiming it at his manhood.

"Uh, uh, uh. My bullet will hit you long before you get over here with your little kitchen knife." She gives him a small smirk as she flicks her ashes.

He glares at her for what seems like eternity until he changes course and walks towards the bathroom to clean himself up. Her face is full of victory as she follows him into the bathroom; she plans to patch him up as he did her.

"Take off your pants." She tells him, opening the window and flicking the cigarette outside.

Sitting on the counter, Joker gives the girl a look before he begins to unsnap his suspenders; unbuckle his belt; and slide his pants off. A smile appears on his face when Lydia turns to find he is wearing no underwear. She locks eyes with his as she begins to wipe away the blood from his inner right thigh.

Pressing down, she reaches over and grabs the tweezers from the counter. He feels her body rub against his thigh as she comes back to her original position. Glancing up at him momentarily, she lowers herself closer to his flesh than what she is comfortable with. Her face is inches away from his thigh, moving the tweezers into the wound without precaution.

His hand reaches up and begins to run his now uncovered hands through her hair. He feels the pain of the metal enter his thigh, working their way around until the tip hits the invading piece of metal. His eyes are locked on the actions she is performing. Oh, how he would love it if the softness of her lips met any uncovered piece of flesh on his body. He grips her hair and throws his head back as she pulls the bullet out of his skin. A clank of metal is audible as the bullets and the tweezers are tossed into the sink.

Joker's grip and force stops her from standing and moving away from him. "What a position you are in." He giggles. "But now isn't the time." He says, releasing her from his hold.

She stands and places a large band-aid on his bleeding wound. Making sure it is secure, her fingers linger on his exposed thigh; that cold piece of flesh. Biting her lower lip, Lydia removes her hands and the blood in the running water. Joker's eyes look down at his tan covered band-aid and back at his 'nurse' for the moment. He wouldn't mind seeing her in the little outfit he wore a few years back when he helped usher Harvey Dent into the world as Two-Face.

A struggle is beginning to take place in her mind. So far she has been strong around him. Now something else is coming through. A searing white light is tearing through her mind as if something is fighting for power. Clenching her eyes shut, she places a hand against her head to help soothe this powerful feeling. The thought of a certain disorder has come to her thoughts before. Multiple Personality Disorder. The green haired man put her through enough to cause her mind to split; to allow a new personality to come in and help protect her in her weakness. But no, this mustn't be the case, she hopes.

Taking in as much breath as she can, Lydia begins to calm herself down. Her elbows are on the counter with her face buried into her hands. Her watcher is sitting on the counter still, his chin resting against his palm. A slight pain is occurring in his thigh as his elbow is pressing down on it from the support of his face. His eyes watch her, unknowingly witnessing a battle waging war on his lovely doll's head. He slides himself from the counter, not bothering to pull his pants back up. He begins to stroke her back with a tender touch as he yanks her up by her hair.

"You feel it don't you? That other being inside of you?" His hand now strokes her lower abdomen.

* * *

She feels her eyelids being pulled open, a light shining through. Her pupils begin to dilate as she moves her arms lazily from her side to push the invaders away.

"Ah, Ms. Valmont, I was beginning to think we lost you." Jeremiah Arkham's voice calls out to her.

* * *

**So there is a twist. How long has Lydia been at Arkham? Did she ever escape? Was everything a dream? Review if you like, I would love it. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Just to clarify, the whole first part of chapter six was a dream. However, you will find that Lydia did in fact break out from Arkham as well as go through the bad things Joker did to her in chapter three. She ends up at Arkham shortly after. So yay for Lydia still being all crazy in the head. **

**Once again, thank you all for your reviews! My laptop is up and working again so hopefully this will be out sooner rather than later. Also, I am trying to put the next chapter to 'Sleepwalking' up and the stories selection is coming up blank. I'll probably go downstairs and post it up. Anyways, enjoy!**

Lydia lies on the uncomfortable cot with Jeremiah's face in her stream of vision. Confusion sets in as she begins to struggle against herself only to find that her upper torso is cased inside a straightjacket. Her last true memories were that of passing out on the floor as she made Robert tell her stories, as if she were a child. It must have been Robert's decision to send her back to this prison of hell. The chance of escaping will not be as easy this time. It was surprising to her that she was able to escape like that in the first place. This is Arkham. This is place in which many of Batman's foes and the criminally insane take up residence. Perhaps they underestimated her because of her sex.

She begins to thrash violently in her jacket, against the hands of the nurses and guards. She lets out screams of anguish and profanities. She manages to kick one of the guards who in turn hold her feet down with their knee. Moving side to side, up and down, it seems as if they have come prepared to her little room. The risk of her cunning mind being able to outsmart them again is too high and thus they have taken most of the proper steps to subdue this madwoman. They manage to hold her head against the uncomfortable cot as a needle is shoved into her skin and a liquid is beginning to coarse through her veins.

Lydia stops thrashing around as much and her screams become muffled sobs. Lying there, she begins to regain her breathing slowly. This liquid doesn't cause her to sleep but forces her to become quiet and somber for the time being. Hands begin to pry her mouth open with little resistance as two white pills are shoved into her mouth. The pills go by the name of 'Prolixin'. Someone begins to rub her throat in order for the pills to go down and start becoming effective. They allow her head to touch the top of her pillow as they all move back from the calm woman lying in front of them. This is something they should have done when this small woman came into their care the first time.

**Two Months Later**

She sits in the dayroom surrounded by many other medicated idiots. The straightjacket is still on as well as the pills. Her head is hanging low as she watches the people in front of her through her dark and thick eyelashes. One patient is sitting at a table, drooling. No thoughts cross any of the doctor's minds that this man is dosed up too high on medication. Something rolls near her foot and all she can do is kick it away with the force of a toddler. Her violent nature has completely left her because of the constant state of intoxication by the pills.

Now instead of having just white pills, Lydia has pink, purple and green. She shuts her eyes lazily as she shifts in her seat, not wanting to be bothered. Her urge to be around people is shit. Every single day there is someone new coming in and a new person is sitting next to her; their mind in the same inebriated state.

"Why Ms. Valmont, don't we look lovely today?" A nurse by the name of Cynthia Lockart says to her.

Why this nurse intends on addressing Lydia like a child is beyond anyone's knowing. The most the other nurses and doctors do is steal glances at her and walk away quickly. Her now dull eyes look up at the nurse as she hands her second dose of the purple pills to her. She helps place them in the subdued woman's mouth and becomes distracted when another person calls Cynthia's name. Without hesitation, Lydia spit's the pills out of her mouth and behind a couch. The nurse turns back around and glances into her open mouth just to make sure the pills went down and weren't hiding.

"Very good dear! I'll see you later on this evening." She tells 'Ms. Valmont'.

All Lydia can do is just stare at her. A fog has been surrounding her mind since the moment she woke at Arkham. Two months have past and all she has to show for it are her screaming nightmares of Joker. She heard someone make the remark that she must be saner when she is around the Joker. Her thoughts fight back in a rebuttal clearly stating that she is not insane nor has she ever been. But her opinions fade in and out all the time due to the medication.

Jeremiah's view on the beautiful disaster's mind and personality, in his opinion, is psychosis. She hasn't completely crossed over to a Sociopath, much like the Joker, but is border lining on it. She feels no remorse for the most part. Over the course of her stay, she has begun to lose contact with reality. Lydia is starting to suffer from hallucinations that come along with psychosis. She talks to beings that aren't there as well as seeing things or people. Though they all thought she was, indeed, schizophrenic; the thought was quickly dismissed. The main two she speaks of and claims to see is the Joker and Batman.

Jeremiah walks into the room in which Lydia is sitting in the center of the floor, straightjacket still holding her arms to her torso. Her eyes are shut and her lips are moving as if chanting to herself. Her legs are crossed under her, giving her equal balance. Her lips stop abruptly and she inhales through her nose hard.

"What do you smell Lydia?" He asks, squatting down in front of her.

Her eyes are still shut, "Face paint." Her eyes flutter open.

"Why do you smell face paint?" He asks.

She smiles coyly and doesn't give him an answer. She begins to move her body slightly from left to right; a giggle sounding in her closed mouth. She shuts her eyes and begins to hum to herself while she rocks herself from left to right.

Jeremiah's hopes for Lydia have been crushed ever since she was returned to Arkham. Her signs of improvement practically vanished during the time she was back out in Gotham. Something occurred between her and another individual that tore her mind to shreds. He had no doubt in his mind that Joker got to her before she could be found. She goes through mania and euphoria almost everyday. Bipolar disorder is another condition in which he diagnosed her with; as well as depressed. But now a day everyone is depressed.

Joker. The Joker. Jeremiah knew his case very well. Though he has treated him the only times he was in Arkham, in which the time was extremely brief, he knew his disorders like the back of his hand. Psychopathy. Anti-Social Disorder. A Sociopath. He seeks pleasure through criminal, sexual, or aggressive impulses and the inability to learn from past mistakes. He feels no remorse for the acts he commits. Another disorder that Dr. Arkham believes Joker carries is the Narcissistic Personality Disorder. He believes that Joker has a need to be admired and the lack of empathy card plays in hand.

Those choice disorders and symptoms seem to describe the one who calls himself the Joker to a perfect-T. With that combination, Mother Teresa would split her wig. The Joker is not a nice person, at all. He shows no compassion; no remorse. Lydia was a fool to believe she could open his heart in some sort of way. Now she is tangled up in the one who paints his face. His hold on her, body and mind, is unbelievably strong even through everything he has done to her. He feeds on the weak. His 'Faithy' was or is weak. Yet, the hold that she has over him is almost as strong. They are like the fucked up version of yin and yang. He once said that '_Batman completes_' him. Batman has moved over. Though he isn't tired of the Dark Knight, the doomed princess excites him in ways he can't explain. She fights through the pain and delivers smart comments- every now and then. She laughs and cries. She's human… and that's what he loves most about her.

**Five Month Checkpoint**

The straightjacket has finally come off and Lydia is able to sit with her arms out in the open. She picks away at the dirt under her newly trimmed nails. She was able to scratch a nurse when she tried to get her to shower. Her hair is matted, curly and greasy. Her face is a fresh canvas since she doesn't wear much make-up these days. One foot is under her butt and the other one hanging over her chair. She is waiting, almost patiently, for a visitor. She hopes in her mind that it is Robert so she can gouge his eyes from its sockets.

She hasn't been on her medication for about three months. Another patient told her that if she acted like she was on them; the fog would disappear from her mind. The doctors would decrease the amount of pills she was to intake and everything would be like new again. So she acts. She acts like a 'normal' person would. However she does have her moments in which she would go a little 'crazy' but then again, who don't in Gotham?

She hears the familiar buzz sound through the room and her head snaps up instantly, wanting to see who the intruder will be. A rather large smile spreads across her lips as she remains motionless. Bruce Wayne walks in dressed in a normal suit. His dark hair is combed back and neat, just like it should be.

"Hello Lydia." He calls to her, a smile gracing his lips.

She smiles to him still, looking like a two year old who is getting their favorite candy. He walks closer and takes a seat across from her. The two stare at each other. Every time Bruce looks at her, he can't help but think what if he was the one who is there for her instead of the Joker. He blames himself harder when it comes to her. He blames himself for letting his archnemisis take this woman into his hands and twist the very core of her. He wishes that he was the one who was able to kiss her, to hold her… to fuck her. The worse part of his thoughts is the fact that she knows all of it. She sees the way that he looks at her; she feels the way he touches her skin.

"Bruce Wayne. My you aren't looking a day over twenty-nine." She replies to him, moving slightly in her seat.

He chuckles lowly and continues to stare at her. "You remember we spoke a while before you were admitted to Arkham?"

Her smile disappears quickly. "About what?" Her face is tight; eyes darken like the sky before a storm.

The two sit in silence for a good five minutes. Their eyes say anything and everything their mouths could never speak of. He moves a hand towards hers, his fingertips brushing lightly against her warm skin. Her face lowers barely so her eyes can glance down at his recent action and back to his face. She doesn't pull her hand away as his hand tightens around hers as he tries to show her some sort of compassion; an emotion Joker isn't capable of in his opinion.

"I could have saved you." He whispers to her.

Her brow furrows as she rips her hand away from his. "Just like how you could have saved Rachel… Batman." She states loudly, knowing doctors are behind a glass wall.

His face changes from understanding to a blind rage in a heartbeat. He stands and grabs her shirt, making her body lay half-way on the steel table.

"Uh, uh, uh. Wouldn't do that if I were you." She says right before he backhands her.

She falls from his hold onto the floor, spitting blood from her mouth. It begins to trace itself along her teeth when she opens it to laugh at him. He begins to advance forward but the door to the little room is swung open as guards try to refrain Bruce from committing further acts of violence on this defenseless woman.

After the struggle Lydia is returned to her room and Bruce is in Jeremiah's office. The Dark Knight, not in his suit, paces the office as his mind is engulfed in his thoughts.

"You can't be too upset with her Mr. Wayne. She isn't in her right mind. I'm not too sure why she called you Batman though." He says, eyeing him oddly.

"Right mind or not, what she said was uncalled for." He stops pacing to look at the doctor.

"What has happened to her at the hands of the Joker wasn't called for. You can't expect too much from her after everything one can assume he has done." He sits back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.

Bruce glances at him and storms out of the office and out of Arkham, his knuckles still stained with the blood from her lips. Standing in the elevator he keeps his eyes on the crimson stain. He knew he didn't hurt her, whether one wants to admit it or not Lydia is a very tough girl. He brings his hand closer to his face, getting a better look at the dark spot. The blood is dry and yet inviting. He lowers his lips to his hand and begins to clean the area away. The iron taste engulfs his mouth, getting a good taste of Lydia.

**Yeahhhhh. There is some sort of triangle going on with Lydia, Bruce, and Joker though Joker doesn't know it yet. Joker will be appearing soon so he can get more of the one he, dare I say, loves. Eh, maybe not love BUT something close. It's eating him up inside.**

**Joker: I eat things. Nothing eats me.Lydia: You'd be surprised Bozo. **

**Joker: What did you call me? -glares-**

**Hahaha… thought I might add in some humor. Anyways, review please with anything you'd like. **


	9. Chapter 9

Joker sits in his bedroom chunking knives into anything he can. She is still on his mind and it has been about six to seven months since he was last in her embrace. What is this feeling that is starting to eat away at his mind? No, it is certainly not love. It's more of an irritation of not being able to share witty remarks; an irritation of not being able to feel her soft skin against his cold flesh. She is the irritation. He silently curses himself for ever becoming involved with this little lady. Who would have known that the two would become one, in a sense, and he would have the biggest problem with killing her.

Lydia, to him, is on the same level as his dear friend Batman. Joker will not kill Batman even if he has the chance. If he learns of another person coming close to killing the Batman, Joker will take it upon himself to step in the way and save him. No, Joker doesn't love Batman or really even care about him however, without the Dark Knight, Gotham City just wouldn't be as fun. No one to try and stop him from destroying different parts of the town. The girl sparked something inside of him. A certain part of him is alive again… he is just unsure as to what part. What he wouldn't give right now to have his hands around her throat so he can end his thoughts of her.

He stands from the bed and walks to his beat-up dresser eyeing the contents strewn across the surface. He picks up Lydia's driver's license and sees that her birthday is a week away. A smile comes across his lips as his mind begins to race of thoughts of seeing her once more.

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'Today is different', her mind tells her as her eyes snap open in her room. She is quite unsure however due to small intake of her medication. Pulling the itchy blanket over her face, she turns over in an attempt to fall back asleep. Her eyes see nothing but white that is slowly driving her over the very brink of sanity she has. She vows silently to herself once she gets out, and kills the Joker, she is going to paint all the rooms in her home a dark color… something other than white. At times when she looks in the mirror and takes note at the whites of her eyes she wants to rip them out of their sockets. Clenching them shut is when she finally sees black. _That's better_.

The day goes by rather slowly. She has her sessions with Dr. Arkham, she sits in the 'play' room and watches the same people either drool or talk to themselves. She doesn't belong in this place, they all know it. Her 'savior' is the one who truly belongs here but so far he has remained untouched by any authorities. She heard talk of him blowing up the Gotham bridge, another bank, another school, and a restaurant Bruce Wayne owns. He certainly has kept busy with Lydia out of the way but she certainly wasn't out of his thoughts. He certainly hasn't left hers. Nights and days pass by as she thinks of the way his flesh feels. The way his skin feels under fingers as they tighten around his throat to cut the oxygen away. She thinks of the way his eyes will linger on her as she raises his own knife against him to slash any part of his body she wishes.

Her feet make silent patter against the tile as she is ushered back to her room. Tonight's male nurse was new and walked about two feet behind her. They were the only two in the hallway as thoughts of kicking him down to the floor to be KO'd and making a break for it. However they were just thoughts and Lydia was actually tired. Tomorrow will be a new day and tomorrow she may decide to break out, again. She stops next to her door and leans her forehead against the wall for support. Unknowingly the male nurse, dressed in blue smocks, kept glancing over at her as well as her ass when she walked. She hears the buzz to unlock her room and without being told to get in she walks to the room only seeing a doll sitting on the bed looking up at her.

"Goodnight… Lydia." She hears the male voice call from behind her, a hint of amusement in his voice.

She shrugs it off and looks back at the doll. Walking forward she sees the pale skin, black and red dress, long tendrils about her hair color. Picking it up she glances at the paper that is attached to it. _'__**Happy Birthday Dollface." **_Birthday! Today was her birthday. Setting the doll down on the bed, Lydia walks over to the giant window overlooking Gotham City. The glass is open as she takes a breath of fresh air. She shuts her eyes as an explosion sounds throughout the building. Her door is blast open as are many others. Sirens begin going off in the asylum as well as the emergency lights. She turns and begins to walk to the newly made door but stops to grab the doll from the bed. Walking out her eyes survey the scene ahead of her. There is a hole in the floor about five feet wide. Not wanting to take any chances on the elevator, she walks over to it and jumps through landing on the next floor. Somehow she manages to get out of the 'hospital' and back into the water, swimming as hard as she can against the thrashing waves. After a few moments she makes it shore once more, drenching in her standard Arkham outfit.

Where to go? Where to go… She doesn't want to go back to home just yet. She knows the Joker will be sitting there waiting, if he wasn't the one behind the outbreak in Arkham. The doctors, who remained, were busy trying to get all of the patients back in a room securely before Jeremiah run to Lydia's room to find it empty. Once again Lydia escaped the asylums hold on her. However, she had no idea about this break out. Her feet begin to move as she stays to the shadows, clutching the doll in her hand. She doesn't know where she is going but Wayne Towers appear ahead of her. She knows Bruce has a penthouse in which he may or may not be in at the moment. Walking into the main area, she notices the secretary had just walked off with a well dressed businessman so there was no problem to get into the elevator. She remembered hearing Joker mention the floor in which he stayed on as he bragged about crashing a party for Harvey Dent about a year or two ago. The elevator lurches upward as she stares at herself in the mirrored doors. Her hair is completely wet and beginning to curl as the tendrils dry. No make-up is smudged due to the lack of there of. Her clothes are still damp but clinging to her form. Her nipples stick out like headlights.

_Bing!_

The doors open and she steps from the elevator into the penthouse. So far it seems as if no one is here. Her eyes dart back and forth until she hears footsteps behind her. She turns around swiftly to see Alfred. The two star at each other for a few minutes until he broke the ice.

"It's bloody cold in here. Come, we'll get you something dry to wear." He offers, extending a gloved hand towards her accompanied by a smile.

She bites the inside of her cheek and begins to walk after him. He leads her to Bruce's room and begins to shuffle through drawers. Her eyes stare at him until blinking an obnoxious amount. He turns and hands her a black shirt as well as a pair of black pajama pants.

"Thought you might like a change from that white they have you wear and see every damn day." He says giving her a devilish smile.

She likes him. She smirks a warmly smirk and takes the clothes from him. "I'll let Master Bruce know you're here when he arrives." He says and walks from the room.

She quickly changes into warm clothes though droplets of water drip down to the floor from her hair. She walks over to the large windows overlooking the city, doll still in hand. She doesn't know how long she has been standing there watching as police cars zoom by on the streets and down to their destination. She hears a door open behind her and quickly turns her body around. There he stands in his full gear. She chews her bottom lip.

"I-I didn't know where else to go…" She tells him as he walks forward in his black suit.

"Did you do that to Arkham?" His voice raspy.

She shakes her head quickly. "It was him." She says looking down to the doll in hand. "He gave it to me for my birthday. What are you going to give me?" She asks, looking back up with pure innocence in her eyes.

He seized her face with his gloved hands and shoves their lips together. This is what she'll be receiving for her birthday.

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**Okay so it's short but it is 2:02 am and I am tired. Working with two year olds all day is fun but tiring.**

**So tell me, do you want a little lemon scene with Bruce? Let me know and the majority will rule.**

**Thank you all for your reviews, they really do mean a lot to me. I just feel horrible for not getting a chapter out sooner.**


	10. Chapter 10

**Miss Feathers, you are so fucking right you don't even know!**

**N0ttheSun, they will be very**** soon. Thanks for the reviews. The lemon is a go. Enjoy, you pervs :D**

The shocking force behind his kiss is enough to snap Lydia somewhat out of the trace she has been in. Forceful yet delicate. He takes the doll from her hand, their lips still together, and throws it to the ground busting it's face. Her mouth parts open and allows him entry to discover though he has been craving to feel the touch of her lips against his, it isn't how Joker kisses her at all. It isn't as if they are trying to wrestle for dominance nor will she end up with bruises on her lip. A gloved hand moves to the nape of her neck as well to her waist to pull her in closer. Though his body is hidden by the Bat suit, she can still feel the heat from his body.

He draws back away from her to toss his helmet away as well as the rest of his bat suit. Everything falls to the floor so quickly to show his eagerness to finally bed Joker's main girl. So long he has waited for this moment. As each day passed after he found out Damzel's true identity… Knowing she is evil sends him over the edge of lustful thoughts. It's wrong and yet he can't help but give into the feelings overbearing his body and thoughts. It is wrong to lust after someone who is mentally deranged; a murderer; and the 'girlfriend' of the Joker. However with all the thoughts gathering in his head at the moment his eyes can't stop taking in the soft beauty of the woman before him. The woman standing there, watching him as he undresses from his alter ego. The light in her eyes could be mistaken for salvation as he steps back again to what he started. He runs his fingers through her damp locks as he watches his hands. She shuts her eyes and leans her head against his bare chest finally thankful for the touch of kindness. She nuzzles her face in his chest and places a small kiss on his rather warm flesh.

He sighs deeply as the softness of her lips lock onto his chest in the most needful yet lustful way he has ever felt. He takes her lips in his once again and kisses her like she is a long lost lover. Hands wander down to her shirt as he quickly pulls it off of her tiny frame. He places his hands on her bottom and lifts her up with ease. She wraps her legs around his torso and begins to attack his neck with sucking, kisses, and small bites. Leaning his head back to enjoy the sensations, he shuts his eyes once more as a lustful sigh escapes his parted mouth.

_She feels like heaven._

Her body is cold against his. The feelings of her cold body on his warm body is enough to walk over to the bed and throw her upon it. Her body bounces once as the sheets become ruffled between her body. She exhales slowly, her eyes staring up at the ceiling. She pushes herself further into the bed to feel the way the softness of the mattress and sheets feel against her uncovered torso. A small smirk plays upon her lips and Bruce can't help but be somewhat amused. He walks towards the bed, placing a knee in between her parted thighs and begins to lower himself down to her welcoming skin. He places a kiss on her lips, on her neck, and on her collarbone. Nuzzling his nose softly against the pale skin, he takes in her scent. Though she has been in Arkham for half a year, she still smells heavenly. Her hands come to his back and begin to trail up and down ever so lightly with her nails. She feels the reaction upon her skin. Bruce bites down lightly on her collarbone and releases after she produces a small moan. A hand ventures down to her breast, cupping it and squeezing it softly.

Tenderness. It is something that has been missing from her life for about a year and a half. All of this and more lay in the arms of the night defender. With every kiss, with every touch, every movement Lydia is somewhat brought back from the brink of her disaster. She's pretty as a picture at this very moment. The small amount of light peaking through the windows and showering her skin makes her almost glow. The dark lashes cover the blue of her eyes. Her plump lips glow with a pinkness of that of a ripe strawberry.

Feeling himself begin to grow, he slides his hands under the waistband of her pants and pulls at them slowly. It is as if he is making himself wait for the best part; depriving him of something sweet. Tossing the pants to the floor carelessly, he begins to stroke her leg and watching her face display the light emotion of pleasure. He bends down, hovering lightly above her body, and places his lips tenderly on her lips once more. She sighs into his mouth as he begins to wrap his arms around her body. His muscles tighten around her body to hold her close as he moves her from her submission position. He sets himself down on the bed, his lips still connecting with hers. His back rests against the steel backboard as his hands glide up and down her thighs, her back, and arms. Her lips travel down to his cheek, nibbling and sucking in random areas; she rises up to his ear and nibbles playfully.

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Hateful eyes glare at the screen in front of him. She went to a different place than the one he is at currently. A flash of purple replays the image on the screen. The large black costume approaches the small girl. Speaking for a few seconds then the sudden rush from the male standing before her. The doll falls and shatters it face causing the small camera to stop working completely.

A guttural growl escapes his lips as he throws the chair at the television. _He took advantage of my little doll. She is weak in the mind and body from all of the pills she was forced to take. I'll kill him. I'll kill her for allowing it to happen. They are both laughing now… in my face. My little… princess. She could be sitting upon the throne of Gotham instead he comes along and sways her decisions. Obviously she isn't right in the head so this is the only reason why it is happening. _

"Oh Batman… what a tangle web you've woven. I'll get you and your little whore." He mutters to himself, looking at the broken television.

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Lydia sits atop Bruce now with herself impaled upon him. This feeling hasn't been there in a while. She was always the submisser, not the dominator. She feels the way Bruce's hands are firmly upon her hips helping her grind against him in ways she didn't know she could. Her back arches as he flicks a finger along her pleasure spot. A moan of pleasure escapes her lips as her head tilts back, elongating her neck. Bruce watches as the woman atop of him takes in the feelings of being in power. His nails dig into her skin as she begins to move faster against his flesh. His eyes watch as she lowers her face to his, her hair coming down and moving over his skin in such a sinfully soft way. He places a hand behind her neck as he forces her lips upon his to a sure her dominance over him. His other hands press against her back to her skin can move against his in a rhythmic motion. She takes her heavenly soft lips from his but stays in the same position. Their foreheads and nose touch and don't move as the force of their thrusting beings to reach their peak. She begins to tighten against him as he becomes fully engorged inside the warm cavern. Both see a hot white light as they let out one final moan together then suddenly relax against each other. He doesn't let her move from a top of him; his hands wrapped around her small form trying to hold on.

He holds on to show that she isn't alone anymore. He wants to prove to her that she doesn't have to go back to the Joker when she can stay here with him… for eternity. His hands begin to rub slightly up and down on her back to comfort any odd emotion running back and forth through her destroyed mind. He is trying to keep her stable; trying to return her to the normal woman she was before the clown got a hold of her. If only he did something to stop him from getting into her mind. She would be normal and a lovely woman instead of the scared fragile one that lies against him.

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**Wasn't long. I had to get this up though. I'm exhausted. Review and tell me what you think. Yes, it isn't the best sex scene or whatever but I couldn't betray Joker toooooo much, hahaha. But hopefully the next chapter will be up sooner.**

**Up Next: Joker and Lydia reunite.**


	11. Chapter 11

10 Sunset in the Night

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The first peak of sunlight filters in through the glass of the penthouse. The harsh light awakens Lydia to find her pressed firmly against Bruce Wayne. Her mind is still slightly foggy from the pills the asylum forced her to take to be 'normal' as well as 'less of a threat.' Pushing herself up, she silently creeps from the bed and begins to pull the clothing on from the previous night. She has no idea what awaits her at her old home. She knows that Robert's blood will be all over the floor, as well as her beloved. Glancing back at the slumbering man, she turns from the room and towards the elevator to return back to her normal life.

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The suns rays light up the sky as she is finally home. Inside everything is how it was before Arkham came a calling. Walking into the kitchen, she comes upon her first prey.

"Making breakfast for someone there, Robert?" Venom loaded in her voice, ready for the trigger to be pulled.

The man drops the glass causing it to shatter against the cold marble. Turning slowly, his terror filled eyes rest upon the woman formally known as Damzel. He hears a drawer open and he backs away even further from her advancing form.

"M-ms. Valmont. I wasn't expect-" He was cut off as a barrel of a gun is raised into his face.

"You weren't expecting to see me so soon? I know, I know. My vacation was cut short… I should have sent you a notice of my arrival." She tells him as the hammer is clicked. Without him being able to say another word, she pulls the trigger and his brains are splattered against the wall and floor.

She lowers her arm and stares down at his body. _Traitor_. The crimson blood begins to leak onto the floor as her icy eyes stare into it. What she is expecting to see, she is unsure. Too many days have gone by in which uncertainty clouds her mind. Biting the inside of her lips, her eyes drift to the ceiling wondering who she might find upstairs. She turns sharply on her heel and makes her way from the kitchen to the stairwell. _Time to end this._ Her mind tells her as she begins to ascend the stairs to the second floor. Her knuckles are bone white as she grips the cold steel in her hand. Without feeling the need to raise the gun, she steps into her old bedroom.

This has changed. It's practically destroyed. The sheets on the bed are severely unkept. The drapes have slashes through him. Mirrors are broken and knives are sticking out of random pieces of furniture.

"Have fun last night?" The sly voice asks from behind her.

"You can say that." She says without turning to face him.

"Mmhm… So you run into the arms of Batman. Tell me, how long has that been going on?" He asks. His voice became closer to her with each word.

She feels the warm breath touch her ear. He is standing directly behind her though never touching her. He is leaning down slightly, his face next to her ear.

"It just started baby boy. Didn't think you'd mind." She says moving quickly and turning herself around to come face to face with him.

"Oh but that is where you are wrong, Faith. I don't think the idea of you being **mine** has quite… grasped your thoughts." He says taking a step forward as she takes a step back.

Inside her mind, Lydia is fighting a losing battle. Oh how she has longed to see him once more. She wants to throw herself at him and let him have her in any type of way he sees fit. However, the other side of her wants to give him more scars. Make him suffer the way she does.

"I'm… I'm not yours, Jack." She says letting the sting of his name settle into his thoughts.

"That, my dear, you are so very wrong about. You are my possession, not Batman's. Seems I'll have to uh, mark you… won't I?" He asks as he takes a knife from his pocket. Eyes flicker down to it as she raises her gun.

"I'm afraid I can't let you do that." She says her voice shaky.

"Mmhm." He replies back to her.

He steps forward instantly and knocks the gun from her hand to send it flying towards the bed. She feels his leather hands grip her throat cutting off as much air as he can. Fear flicks across her eyes but she raises her knee up to connect with his inner thigh. He releases her and receives a punch across the jaw. He feels a tug on his shirt as she grips it and begins to throw even more punches as they connect with various parts of his face. He grunts with each hit as she. He manages to throw her from him, her back landing with a thud against the floor.

"I forgot just how good," He touches his nose to see blood, "You are at throwing punches."

Before she could get off of the floor, he pounces on her. His hips straddle hers making it near impossible for her to get out.

"You know what really gets me, Faithy?" He says as a fist connects her mouth. "You ran to someone instead of me." Another punch connects with her nose. "Didn't you know the results of your decision?" A punch hits her in the jaw. "And yet you come back to me." Another punch lands itself on her mouth following by an eruption of his laughter.

Her mouth is gradually filling up with blood as he picks himself off of her. She is dazed but still has fight left in her. She makes her leg hit his so he is now the one on the floor. She climbs a top of him this time and grabs his tie. She punches him in the nose once again to daze him slightly.

"If you wanted me to come back here so bad..." She begins to tighten the tie around his throat, "You could have just asked." She watches as his eyes stare up into hers as she begins to cut off his breathing.

"Filthy whore." He manages to say before pushing her off of him.

Her head smacks against the floor as she falls. She feels his hands grip into her hair as he brings her head back up and slams it back down. Stars begin to form in her eyes. She lets out a growl and swings at him again only this time he catches her arm before it can connect with his temple. The two struggle for power once again until he slams her head down to the floor for the third time. Her hand goes limp but she isn't knocked out. Spitting blood onto him, she stares at him with hate filled eyes.

"You know I don't like to share my things… with anyone." He states as he grabs her shoulder with extreme force and flips her over onto her stomach.

Her face rests against the floor; trying to think of something to do… a way out of whatever is he is planning. He must have removed his gloves as soon as her face smacked into the floor, as his cold hands find their way underneath the shirt in which Alfred gave her the night before. The sounds of tearing fabric echo loudly in her ears. She feels him move over her and sit down on the small of her back. She exhales as he begins to push down on her back, making any and every curve become pressed against the floor.

"Did you like the way he touched you?" He asks with pure malice in his voice.

"He didn't touch me like you." She manages to say.

Once again her head hit's the floor with rough impact. "That is not what I asked you."

"No. It was too soft." She manages to say with blood from her nose leaking its way into her already bloodied mouth.

"Mmmhm. Do you like my touch, do you?" He asks.

A searing white, hot pain encases itself in her back. The knife is digging into her flesh starting from one shoulder blade and extending itself to the other. She lets out a muffled scream of pain, not wanting him to get the satisfaction from her fear. She feels blood begin to slowly pour its way from the cut. Again the blade is pressed into her skin, separating her flesh. It goes down and begins to curve upward around the small of her back. The letter 'J' is now etched into her back. Blood begins to pour out of the wounds and down her sides onto the floor. Now somewhere in the middle of her back he placed the blade in once more curving it into an 'O'; soon having it followed by a 'K', 'E', and a 'R'.

"Let's see your precious boyfriend want to touch you now." He says as he grabs her shoulder once more and twists her around.

She sucks in air as the floor causes her new wounds to sting. He stares down at her, the smile never appearing on his face. Tossing the knife aside, his bloody fingers work their way across her lips and along her jaw. He wipes tears away from her cheeks. Knowing the pain he brought her is enough to bring a small smirk on his red lips. Her eyes are hooded from the shock of the pain.

What could she have expected? She knew that damn doll was something to get rid of the moment she picked it up. Jealous Joker is not a happy joker. Does this mean he cares about her? She hasn't the slightest clue or idea. The pain eating away at her back is what is on her mind. His eyes scan her face once more before he brings her lips to his in a bruising force to remind her once more of who she belongs to.

"Welcome home." He whispers as he breaks the kiss. Throwing her body back to the ground, he gets up and leaves through the door, hands covered in her blood.

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**Slightly longer chapter, yay! Hope you enjoyed and feedback is appreciated.**


	12. Chapter 12

**This is an extremely short chapter, just a warning. But that does mean another chapter will be up tomorrow. I guaran- damn- tee it. Also, I have AIM on my laptop now. If you want to chat me up or something of that mix just send me either a review requesting it or a message. **

**Thanks for the reviews. This chapter is going to be crucial to the on-coming ones. You'll see what I mean. Review it and let me know.**

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A sharp slap to the face is what awoke the injured female on the floor, lying in her own blood. Another slap to make her flutter her eyes open. Her blurry eyes saw the harsh face of a clown. Blinking lazily she felt another slap, possibly harder than the other two, pass across her right cheek.

"Wake up." He growls into her face.

She scowls at him but remains on the floor. A hand slides down from her stomach and hit the sticky substance that stains her hands red. The amount of blood loss was enough to cause her to pass out but not die. No he doesn't want that to happen just yet. He stands from his squatting position and walks over to the large closet, disappearing inside. Her eyes flutter shut once more as she tilts her head to the side. The pain coursing through her back is enough to make her lay there though she is certain he wants her up from the cold floor. It is sad to say that Lydia is almost use to the pain that he inflicts upon her. What hurts her the most is when the events to cause harm upon her is happening. After that it is like child's play. Pain is just an obstacle she has learnt to deal with and push aside. Being in the Joker's presence one learns how to walk with a broken leg or talk when their jaw is dislocated in several areas. Rolling onto her stomach, she is almost to weak to pick herself up from the floor but she somehow manages as soon as he walks from her closet; her 'assassin' outfit on a hanger in his hands.

"Shower, now. You have a job you're going to do." He says, tossing the black cloth onto the bed.

"What job?" She asks leaning against her bed for support.

"We're going to take another stab at the Mayor." He tells her grapping her arm to escort her to the bathroom.

"We? I thought you said-"

"Does it matter right now Faithy? You smell funny and are covered in blood. Get into the shower, now." He states firmly as he turns the hot and cold water on in the shower.

The two stare at each other for what seems like minutes. Neither blinks nor seemingly breath. He comes closer to her but she doesn't try to shrink away from that menacing glare. Raising a hand, he runs it through the severely tangled hair and smoothes it out over her shoulder. He slides a hand around her waist and pulls her in close; his chest against hers. She feels his breath next to her ear as her eyes glare at the area he once stood.

"Get in the shower, now." He growls into her ear as he pushes her away from him causing her back to collide with the wall. She hisses from the pain but he is already gone to not witness the display of pain course through her harsh features. The midnight blue eyes stare at the door before she turns slowly and walks into the shower to begin the process of rinsing the blood and stench away from her body. She doesn't bother to wash her hair; it will take too much time.

The shower takes roughly five minutes before she gets out and walks into her bedroom completely nude and dripping onto the floor. Instead of the black material that was laid out along the bed it is replaced with jeans and a simple shirt. She sees him walk from her closet with a pair of flats in his hand as he throws it to the bed. Glancing over to her wet body, his eyes can't help but travel over the pieces of flesh that his body has ravaged more than once. The subtle curves that connect from hip to hip, the soft breasts that cause a whimper to escape every time he gives a squeeze. Long and firm creamy legs that wrap around his waist to hold on to him as he takes her from whatever way to cause the soft moans to escape those ruby red lips. It is a shame to cover her precious body with the towel that is now wrapping around her body.

"Why civilian clothes?" She questions him.

"Changed my mind. You'll get too much attention for your outing today." He tells her as his hands linger longer than necessary when he secures the towel around her bust.

She stares at him as he begins to walk away, only glancing over his shoulder once. A spark occurs in her mind. A searing white light of annoyance. The memories and images of the things he has done to her come flooding back. They run rampant on her thoughts. _Murdering Commissioner Gordon, the dozen sex acts, brutal beatings, torture, blood… lust, anger, madness, blood. So much pain._

'_You don't have to take that from him, you know? Do you know how easy it could be to just grab the nearest lamp and smash his brains in? Knives, guns, and gasoline is what this man is made of. You've got heart and passion. You two don't mix well. You're doing that thing right now, aren't you? Remembering all of those things he has done to you; the things he made you do; what he has made you become? I'm what you've become. Me dolly dearest. Do you love him? Eh, don't bother with answering that. It is too obvious what the very heart in that little chest of yours is pounding for his approval; for something he can never give you. Love sweet cheeks. How can you think someone like him can just open up that little black pit of heart to you? Obviously you aren't good enough… But I am. Yes ma'am. Don't cry on me; crying is for the weak. Wanna know how you can change? Embrace me. I'm the one you need and together we'll make him wish that he never took you under his wing, per say. I'll be here when you're ready. The name? The name is Damzel.'_


	13. Chapter 13

**Okay so I just finished another story that I was reading and saw that it had their main character with Dissociative Personality Disorder. I do not want it to seem as if I am taking her idea so I am having Lydia take on another disorder commonly confused with Dissociative. She has Schizophrenia Disorder. Her face will not undergo any changes when the voice comes along nor will she really speak to Damzel. Damzel is going to be there in her mind urging her to do things as well as making her paranoid. Hahaha, Lydia is falling apart but what can you expect when you are with the Joker for a long period of time? On with the chapter!**

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**AIM NAME: notenoughxgirl**

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'_You don't have to take that from him, you know? Do you know how easy it could be to just grab the nearest lamp and smash his brains in? Knives, guns, and gasoline is what this man is made of. You've got heart and passion. You two don't mix well. You're doing that thing right now, aren't you? Remembering all of those things he has done to you; the things he made you do; what he has made you become? I'm what you've become. Me dolly dearest. Do you love him? Eh, don't bother with answering that. It is too obvious what the very heart in that little chest of yours is pounding for his approval; for something he can never give you. Love sweet cheeks. How can you think someone like him can just open up that little black pit of heart to you? Obviously you aren't good enough… But I am. Yes ma'am. Don't cry on me; crying is for the weak. Wanna know how you can change? Embrace me. I'm the one you need and together we'll make him wish that he never took you under his wing, per say. I'll be here when you're ready. The name? The name is Damzel.'_

* * *

Eyes clenched shut to fight the urge to scream as the pain of the voice crept slowly into her mind. Backing up she throws a hand out to catch the bannister of the bed as she won't collapse on the floor. Her face is in her hands as her eyes clench shut even harder, blocking out any bright light that was visible behind her eyelids. This voice, this horrible voice, of Damzel is splinter itself in her mind to take up house. After everything Lydia has gone through it seems right that someone came into help drive her further down the rabbit hole of insanity. Fingernails dig into her face as she tries to tear away skin to find the voice inside and wretch it from her mind. Letting out a scream of frustration she feels the hard leather grip upon her wrists to tear her hands away from damaging her face even more. Tears stream down the cut cheeks to cause a burning sensation. Vicious head movements to try and dull the pain.

"Out… out, Out!" She screams into the man's face who is surveying the damage done.

"Open your eyes." He says calmly.

"Out… get out… Mind hurts…" She mutters weakly as her eyes eventually drift open.

"Got a headache?" He asks wiping away some of the blood onto his glove thus transferring it to his pants.

"Out… mind headache. Voice… Damzel. Hurt… pain." She tells him as her hands wrap themselves around the clown's wrist in a way for comfort.

He pulls his wrists back and throw them to the side. Her grasp on him causes her to be flung to the ground with his movements. '_Get up baby girl. You don't want to hurt do you?' _She does as Damzel says and pushes herself from the ground, standing weakly on her own.

"I just knew…" he walks in front of her, "That you'd go crazy sooner or later… Now you're perfect." He tells her moving strands of her hair away from her face.

"Perfect. I wanna be perfect. For you." She tells him almost sounding like a child.

She wraps her arms around his back and flings her body into his. Though his arms are at his side, he can't help but take some bit of comfort in her iron hold. Seeing the effects he has had on her mind lead all up to this. Her breaking point. Now everything has come down to this. This is his most prized possession; his trophy. This is what he can do to a normal person. Push them past their boundaries then push even further until all bets are off and anything is game. Oh a funny thing sanity is. It can be there one minute but disappear as quick as a heartbeat.

"You are now Lydia. You are now." He pats her head and takes her arms away from him.

Lips quivering as he pulls back away from her. He isn't positive what has crept into her mind though he has a very good idea. _'I'll be there for you… that little fallen angel on your shoulder.'_ She watches as her head jerks to the right, her eyes shut tightly. There it was again. That little voice. Joker isn't too sure how this will effect Lydia nor his plans. This might push his raven haired beauty over the edge far enough to be like him; think like him; act like him. Isn't that what the world needs, another Joker? Of course he won't allow that to happen. This is his glory; his time to shine. He won't let this woman before him take what he has worked for away. He'll shoot her dead before that comes to power. Yet as he watches her in that maddening way, he can't help but want to have her there right next to him as the fight for Gotham's soul finally is sent to hell.

He turns her around softly and begins to led her back to the bed so she can lay down to try and fight whoever it is in that precious little mind of hers. Such a quick change in attitude is what the Joker is known for. Minutes ago he was still fuming about the nice little fun Lydia had with Batman but once he came back after the scream to discover his little gift from the world was suddenly ill. Then after he found her in the state of fragility; he instantly changed. Why torment her more for the day when the little person inside of her head can do it for him. He doesn't even know who it is but he likes it already. Now it can torment her whenever he isn't there. He pulls the towel away from her cowering form and pulls the covers up gently. Giving her a kiss on the forehead he turns on his heel quickly and walks from the room; leaving Lydia alone with her thoughts.

* * *

"Why are you here?" The voice is hazy and lost in the distance.

"**Isn't it obvious? I've been pushed so far down in your mind. The deepest corners. I'd be lying if I said that our little snuggle bunny didn't encourage me to come out."**

"I don't want to be able to hear you. You'll cause more damage than good."

"**And you think this really matters to me? Guess you should have thought about that before you let him fuck you inside and out."**

"Why are you here?"

"**I'm your little guardian angel from hell. I'm here to torment you as well as help you."**

"Help?"

"**Yup. I'm just going to urge you to get back into that 'Damzel' state of mind. That is the only way I am going to help you. I'm not going to let that damned clown beat the mess out of you and you take it. I'm just going to urge. I know you've got that fight deep down inside of you. That bloodlust… with me being here I am going to help you be even better than the Joker. We are going to be the ones to take Gotham over, one tit at a time."**

"I don't want to go against him. He'll kill me."

"**And you're afraid of death? It may hurt in the beginning but once it is over, it's all good. Don't you think that is what Commissioner Gordon was thinking before you shot his brains out?"**

"I think I hate you…"

* * *

**Okay sweethearts. This is a schizophrenia slash dissociative personality disorder. Damzel is going to have an effect on Lydia's personality with strengthening her fight and also torment her. It isn't going to be pretty and Damzel will bring up past events that have happened to Lydia. Most of the past won't be pretty that she brings up. I am trying to get back into the groove of updating quicker. But working with two year olds Monday through Friday can take a lot of energy out of you. By the way, AIM name: Notenoughxgirl**

**Send an IM my way.**


	14. Chapter 14

Weeks passed as the voice of Damzel grew stronger. It began to torment her in ways her jealous lover never could. Reminding her of the past she so desperately tried to repress. Images of a father abusing herself and her little sister. The years of her sister's nasty drug habit. Her mother's death. If Damzel was trying to help Lydia in any fashion then she is doing a very poor job. The constant teasing and arguing between the two is enough to make Joker smile and laugh to himself when he isn't plagued by the thoughts of his own and the Batman.

Nights pass by and it's a lonely night. No Joker in sight. Bruce was smart enough not to make house calls anymore. They haven't seen each other since that night; the morning he woke up alone. Lydia lays in the bed, in the dark, staring up at the ceiling; Damzel no where in her head. A creak in the door and a flash of a white face greets her. Sitting up in the bed they lock eyes even though the darkness is enough to cause someone with 20/20 to not see clearly. The shudders come over her body as she hears him leaning on the door for support. This is the second night he has returned to her like this. Batman was able to beat him down; no doubt Batman does have a problem getting around in the morning. News reports have eye-witnesses coming up telling about the fights going on between the Bat and the Clown. Both fighting as if it meant something more than hatred.

Lifting the sheets from her body she walks over to him only to be greeted with a shove and a grunt. She fought everything in her body to shove him back but doesn't bother with it. Turning a lamp on and seeing his eyes squint from the discomfort, she sits down next to him. His nose is busted, lips have dry blood around them. His main purple jacket is off, most likely thrown to the ground somewhere up the stairs. His clown make-up is severely smudged; half of his face is revealed. She wants to ask how it went but sees that he is staring directly ahead at a wall. This is the time in which his genius begins to show. It's almost as if he is sitting there figuring out cures to uncureable diseases; to solve world hunger. But those thoughts are uncharacteristic of this man. His thoughts are probably of Batman and how to bring him down. The gears are grinding in that head thinking about him- no doubt… or what side of the bed to sleep on.

After a few minutes of silence and staring. "I got him good, Faith." Her head twitches slightly when he speaks. There is no need to ask who 'him' is. Batman. Ever since the carving of her back, Joker has been out every night managing to fight with the Batman. Somehow his ability to fight has increased though he hasn't raised a single hand to her since the day Damzel began to destroy the small amount of sanity Lydia still had left. Her head turns and looks back to the wall.

Then a touch. Gentle and soft. His actual fingertips gracing her skin with the coldness; absent of heat. Her icy eyes stay on the ground as she feels his dark gaze resting on her profile. It occurs to him that he now knows the sides to her. Damzel is her face of evil. Lydia is the woman he first met. The one whose graceful fingertips play soft sounds of the piano, violin, and harp. She believes there is good in him. She wants to believe he will someday love her the way she does him. Then there is Damzel. Dressed in black latex. She is the merciless killer. She killed Jim Gordon. She is who encouraged every hit, every kick to him. He is the one who made Damzel appear in her mind the first place. His words encouraging her every step of the way to let the darkness embrace every single trace of light in her mind.

He wishes now that he can crawl inside her mind and destroy Damzel. For some strange reason he wants the old Lydia back. Thoughts travel backwards as he thinks about when she kissed him the night he broke out of Arkham. The night she removed his make up and then willingly gave herself to him. Gone are those days… He watches as her lashes flutter and those nervous eyes drift to him. "Lydia…" He barely whispers. Her name. He usually calls her by her middle name; Faith. It showed her place; she wasn't a person he should acknowledge with their real name.

"You've finally returned to me…" He says as both hands now cup her fragile face, thumbs running over her skin.

"I've been here all along." She tells him as tears sting her blue eyes. Her voice cracks as the dam breaks and clear tears fall from her cheeks.

Delicate. All he can think as the tears caress his fingers. He is out of context; out of his own character. It's hard to explain why the return of his precious Lydia is causing him to react in such a way. Showing a human is not like him. A missing piece of a puzzle is now found ready to complete the set. The warmth of her skin is heavenly as she nuzzles his dirty hand.

"Can we rest?" She asks, her eyes looking down. "Please," She looks at him with the most pitiful look, "Can we rest?"

* * *

Gunshots spray the night buildings. The sounds of heels clicking against the pavement. An alteration to the black outfit now fits her body. The back has been cut down to the small of her back revealing the almost healed cuts of the word "JOKER". The woman walks with an air of confidence and destruction. The pod slows down and comes to a complete stop a mere seven feet away from her.

"Damzel." The voice growls.

"That's right baby," The glock raises in her hand, "I'm back… and badder than ever."

* * *

**So you all thought I'd really leave this story behind? No, not a chance. Short chapter but it is going to be followed soon by something better.**

**Explanation on the wait: After I put out the last chapter (Sept. 12****th****) my laptop froze. I tried to restart it later, giving it time to rest, but after the log in screen, it went black. It took a while but someone fixed it. Had two Trojans and a virus. New software was put on it so hopefully it doesn't happen again. Now with that said, I have another chapter to write. **


	15. Chapter 15

There is no plan tonight; just the intention of creating some chaos. Joker and Lydia both knew Batman would show up always did. Gunshots echoed in the night sky as laughter and explosions followed. The laughter, of course, was from the Clown Prince of Gotham himself. The sounds of heels pounding against the pavement and gunshots were Lydia who has reverted to Damzel this evening. A sound almost like a motorcycle was Batman.

"I'm back and badder than ever."

That smirk angers him beyond belief. About a month and a half ago, he had this woman residing on top of him enjoying herself. But it wasn't the woman in front of him, oh no. It was the woman with a soft heart and a knack for exploring the criminal mind. The woman in front of him now has a cold heart and doesn't mind offing someone as innocent as a child.

Footsteps slam on the pavement as the Dark Knight begins forward, anxious to get his hands on Damzel. She is wearing the mask that went along with her first outfit; the small and tight dress with diamonds and hearts imprinted on it. Every step he takes towards her, she takes two back. It's as if she fears being caught by his dark hands. As he tries to get closer the bodies are visible to the naked eye. Women, men, children, and the elderly. She was having a free for all with her bullets. Getting angered even further Bruce's paces begin to quicken into sprints thus causing her to completely turn her back to him and begin to run away. He almost freezes at the sight of her own scars, visible as daylight. _He got to her again…_

Suddenly the Bat is tackled to the ground. A fury of black surrounds purple. The Joker now is on top of him sending punches to all areas of his face, throat and anything else he can come into contact with. It has to be about three in the morning and people begin to open windows and step outside to see what the commotion is. Needless to say some people try to yell and shout to stop what they are doing. Damzel graces her face with a smile as she begins to unload bullets into buildings as well as people. They should know better than to come out into the dark streets when a sociopath is on the loose. However the bullets aren't able to reach behind her as a heroic citizen tackles her to the ground.

Her body lands with a loud thud. Small pieces of skin are edged away from her chin to produce the tiniest cuts. The person on top of her doesn't weight too much as she manages to reverse their weight to allow herself to straddle the female. Furies of punches stream down into the face and Damzel is relentless. Screams of 'help' escape the bloody lips as she keeps pounding, visualizing a clown face underneath. Somehow Batman was able to push the Joker off of him but like a rapid dog he is back on him. A bullet flies into the woman's brain as she lifts herself off. A slightly whistle sounds from her lips as a car near the fighting men explodes.

Neither was ready. Joker scurries away and batman barely has time to move. The car lands in the area Bruce was just at. Burning flames and the smell of gasoline fill the night air. She stands there looking in amazement knowing that this explosion was her own doing. A rough hand grabs her arm as the Joker is running away while he can, dragging his possession with him. She stumbles but manages to regain her footing and runs with him. But they are stopped. Red and blue sirens blind their eyes. "Fuck… I'm not going back!" She screams out as she rips her arm from his hold and runs towards the van. She hears his footsteps following; laughter howling at the moon. The van's door is open and waiting for them to jump into. It takes off as Joker's hand grabs the handle and shuts it. Sirens are behind them as Damzel kicks the back window out and aims the sawed off shotgun. One shot. Tire out. Reload. Second shot. Nails a driver. Third shot. Hits the glass. There is enough distance now to not worry about shooting anything.

* * *

"It appears Lydia is back on her feet Master Wayne?" Alfred asks while giving the young man an icepack.

All Bruce could do is answer him with a slight nod of the head. "The Joker's punches are becoming more accurate if I do say so." Alfred said while observing the damage done to the man he considers a son. Bruce had a variety of colors on that pretty little face of his. Black, blue, purple and yellow. All the hits had an overwhelming sense of rage behind them and the Dark Knight knew why. The doll held a recorder behind the eyes. Of course the doll's face was smashed before his mask came from his face so his identity is safe, for now. But what if Joker wants to know who the Batman is? A few years previous that was all that consumed the madman's thoughts. But eventually they subsided as Gotham eventually turned the rest of their backs to him. If they only knew that the 'playboy' was really the man they held deep in their pockets of hatred… What would his father say? His mother? Is he really fighting the good fight to help establish and maintain order? Is this what that is?

"Keep your chin up, Sir. I believe your parents would be proud." Alfred said with a slight wink. His footsteps fade into the distance.

But would they be? I mean really? Is this the future they wanted for their only son? Operator of Wayne Enterprises by day; Watcher of Gotham City by night. This isn't right. Having to fight people who just don't fit in with the world. But does he? Is this what he is destined to do? Go out and battle sociopaths with clown make-up and his little girlfriend who is in a permanent coma of psychosis? It must be. There isn't a single person who is capable of wearing that black suit like he can.

He stands, dropping the ice pack on the counter to walk to his bedroom to find some lenience with sleep. A door creaks open as he looks up seeing Lydia standing there in what she wore the night the two connected. Pushing himself up on his palms, his upper torso exposed.

"The clown… bad man. Made your face colorful. Pretty little colors…" She mutters walking to the bed and soon having her hands intricate touching each bruise to the busted lip. "Wanna know a secret?" Her head leans forward, a deranged look in her eyes. A giggle. "The sunset is the prettiest during the night." She placed a hand over her mouth as if she told a secret.

"Th-that makes no sense…" He answers back, afraid to touch her tangled locks.

She blinks once and stares at him as if he said something that made no sense. Another blink, her lashes fluttering like a butterfly's wing. Her hands rise to indicate an explosion as her mouth sounds out what a five year old would sound like.

"Get it?" She asks with an innocent look in her eyes.

"Oh Lyd-ia." A sing song voice calls in the darkness.

Her head turns to look behind her for a moment and then comes back to face him. "I have to go now… He promised if I was good then I can see the sunset… but its night." A pure smile comes across her face as she leans in and kisses his cheek. "I'll be seein ya' around Mr. Batman." She turns but his hand comes out to yank onto her feeble arm.

"Wait… you don't have to go with him. I'll protect you." He spoke.

The face turned back around but it was no longer Lydia. His mother. "You'll protect me? Oh honey, you can't even protect yourself. Look at you," She sits back down and places a tender hand against his cheek, "The Joker has done so much to you." She watches him bow his head but look back at her. "You'll beat him Bruce. You're a Wayne. You don't stop until the job is finished."

"Mom, I don't know what to do… He isn't like anyone I've encountered before." He tells her, his voice truly weak.

"You'll get to him through the girl. If you haven't noticed he has quite a soft spot for her. He protects her like the owner he is." She ruffles his hair. "Bruce, you'll have to break that one rule if you want to beat him."

"Mother… I can't kill him." He mutters almost shamefully.

She stands and walks to the center of the room, eyeing Gotham City at five in the morning. She looks heavenly. The thick, dark hair pinned up so royally. Her body is dressed in a black pencil skirt, a white button up, topped off with a black blazer. Her feet are encased in a pair of black heels. Everything on her body is owned by Chanel. He can even smell the Chanel no.5 perfume she favored so much when she was alive.

Though most of his looks he gets from his dad, his mother is where the eyes come from. She truly is beautiful. A stern jaw and a warm smile. Soft eyes and a small nose. Long, dark lashes and perfectly arched brows. The look on her face showed she is in a deep thoughts. Part of her wished that he would understand who he had to break the rule for.

Laughter breaks from the opposite side of the room. The Joker in all of his purple suited glory walks out, blade in his hand. His other is gripping the small arm of Lydia, almost dragging her in with him. "So you're the one who fucked **my** girl." He says staring at him with the dark abyss known as eyes. "Bruce Wayne. Batman. Man… If I had a nickel for every time the playboys were the bat… I'd have a nickel." He chuckles to himself.

His eyes lay upon Lydia who is clutching onto the purple jacket. "Please… I want to go… The sunset! It's leaving." She points towards the window.

The usual dark expression is vacant on his face. He sits down and offers his lap for Lydia. The two look into their eyes, kisses being planted on various parts of their faces. He plays with her hair as she plants kisses on his scars. She smiles and turns to Bruce. "He's going to take me to the zoo tomorrow! Do you want to come?" She asks eyes wide with happiness.

"He says that I get to watch the animals of Gotham scurry around like they always do! Fighting for food, manipulating others to gain headway…" All the while, Joker had been smiling a smile that was full of happiness. "Oh Bruce, please say you'll come!" She begs him now, her arms still wrapped around his neck.

"Go son. You'll see things you've never expected." His mother tells him; a soft smile on his face.

"But you said I had to kill him," He indicates to the Joker, "How can I go to the zoo with him?"

Joker laughs out loud and looks to Lydia who is giggling as if she knows a secret. "Oh Brucy. The zoo is just Gotham itself. Full of lions, tigers, and bears," He is interrupted.

"OH MY!" Lydia shouts out. Her hands cover her mouth with a wide expression as she looks to her lover.

"It's alright sweetheart," He flicks her nose playfully, "And it wasn't me she was talking about killing." He motions to Bruce's mother.

Bruce looks over and begins to see blood pouring out where the gunshot hole is located. "It's me!" Another fit of laughter as Lydia covers her mouth once again.

Joker looks at her and nods with a smile. Her head is slightly turned to Joker but her eyes glance over to Bruce, the smile still on her face as well as in her eyes. She giggles again. Her eyelashes bat like that of a butterfly's wings…

* * *

**Yeah. Ha. Something better. I thought of most of it while I started to drink- in which I am doing. Hahahahahahhaa. Please review. I've been gone so long that it feels as if my 'mojo' is gone. Let me know things. ASAP. Thanks!**

**Edit: The last part with Bruce is all a drem.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Author's Note:**

**I've been gone for far too long. I've been sick to the extreme lately and plus had many, many things going on in the personal life that just got me down for a while. But enough with the bad news.**

**THE GOOD NEWS:**

**Chapters for "A Trade Off", "Sunset In The Night", and "Sleepwalking Past Hope" will be up soon. The stories are coming back from a rather long hiatus. I hope you all are looking forward to reading them as I am looking forward to writing them.**

**-Jenna Von Cannon**


	17. Chapter 17

The sickly sweet liquid pours into her mouth. It's intoxicating to say the least. It is celebration time here in Gotham and what better way does the Clown Prince and his Damzel in Distress celebrate? Wide eyes as it explodes into her mouth. Yet her head rips away as the grotesque expression plays upon her lovely features. It's salty yet runs down her throat so easily.

Tequila with salt rimming the edge of the glass.

Glazed blue eyes look to her accomplice as he lifts the neck of the glass bottle to his own scarred lips. Damzel is out in full swing tonight, enjoying the carnage that lingers in the street. Smalls hands rest against the cold floor as she slowly lays her body down upon it, gazing up to the ceiling. Yet even though the two aren't look at one another, his dark eyes lock upon her figure. His greatest possession.

The key to getting to the Joker is through her. It isn't love that he has towards her, or is it? He made a mind, her mind, split into two. The voice of what he created running rampant upon her. It encourages her to do unspeakable things such as murder or torture. The Lydia he knew before would never have done this, not at all. But she proves easily just how fragile the mind is. She began to side with him, defend him against others quicker than one would think. He was quite honestly surprised about how easily she turned. But what he spoke to Batman about Harvey Dent about gravity proves to be true. All Lydia needed was a little push.

Yet now, as he stares at her, the thought of having her gone- never here- pains him slightly. He is use to waking up with her warmth laying next to him. He hasn't gone soft, not one bit. Knowing the warmth of her body is with someone else drives him insane with jealousy. But with her nude body pressed up against him every night, the scars of his name etched upon her back against the wall of his chest, soothes him as she is there. No where else.

Too many things have happened between the two. Too many things for him to sit there and list. Even as his cold eyes stare down upon the woman so completely relaxed against the floor, he doesn't seem as cold. He is the Joker. The one who is easily capable of killing anything, anyone, anytime. This woman, this woman he can't. He has destroyed her enough as is. Her mind is completely split and it will remain that way for the rest of her life he thinks. What he did to her is worse than death. To see your life stripped away little by little as splatters of crimson hit the blade. Should he add to the torment she has as her mind bounces back and forth from the innocent to the merciless?

This isn't what he needs to be focusing on.

A woman; A human made for the satisfaction of his sex. This isn't why he is created for Gotham. Batman showed just how crazy the city can be as he made his mark. The flying rat is what makes him, him. Not a pair of small tits and the warmth to start global warming between the legs. Is the vigilante a side project now? Has his newest obsession become the leading reason why he has not bombed various areas? Honestly, it really is. But he isn't about to let some bitch come in the way of why he created this 'persona'.

A persona that was made out of hatred. He was thrown into the scene as the man with a drunken face and no will came towards him with a blade. Stories he has told to the victims that actually, really, matter deal with his father. He always led the others around in a circle- just like the late Racheal Dawes. He fed her some line about an ex-wife getting in with the gamblers of the underground Gotham. He did have a wife once but she never died by any other hands than his own.

_I killed the bitch. Runnin' around on me nearly drove me insane. But luckily, as the arterial sprayed my face, I was able to keep my genius mind._

Lydia had since gotten up from the cold floor of her home and made her way to one of the rather large windows. Hands come up to the handles as she carefully lifted the cold iron and pushed the double pieces of glass open to welcome in a warm breeze. Lids flutter shut as she inhales slightly, strands of raven tickle her face. And he watches. Watches in a drunken state, one hand leaning against his knee with the other draped downward. His dark eyes trace over the light scars etched into her back by him. Lydia is his possession now and if anyone were to ever undress her, hands touch the violent marks, they'd know who she belongs to.

* * *

**Now, this chapter isn't long as you can tell. I've bought The Dark Knight DVD so some of my inspiration has come back. This, to me, is a good chapter to come back with because I've got some ideas for the next few chapters. Lydia and the Joker seem so 'together', so to speak. But what happens if one of them were take a hostage of their opposite sex? I just don't want this to seem like the Joker is all lovey dovey towards Lydia because he isn't. He does have a weak spot for her, obviously, but quite possibly at this point if it were his life over hers... Well needless to say he'd make Lydia the martyr. **

**The next chapter will be out in the next few days thanks to some inspiration that's sparked into my mind. Review if you'd like. I'm currently working on the last chapter of "A Trade Off" and I'll soon move on to "Sleepwalking."**


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